Lyrics Serial Killa - Twiztid, Tech N9ne

Serial Killa

What is it about a serial killa that attracts you?
And makes this music that you can sharpen an axe to
Taking you back through a hallway to a black room
No walls or ceilings, just doorways to pass through
You choose, chainsaws are always nice
But razorblades and knives are way more precise
When it comes to cutting, this shit here is an art
And we finish what we start, that’s what separates us apart
From other motherfuckers, not saying no names
But them other motherfuckers (ain't family)
And they say I’m sick, too sick
Well how sick do you get?
When you see a chest without a butcher knife buried in it
Wait a minute, give me an axe
I wanna smash your ribcage in half
For every time you laugh on our behalf
Will you let me another chance to redefine?
The mind of a serial killa
Serial Killa!
K-I-Double L-A
Fruitloop;
outta my mind like godzilla!
Kill!
Serial killa!
Killa, killa!
Butcher under the corpse.
Killa, killa!
Serial killa!
Killa, killa!
Could it be the blood?
Maybe it’s the blood you like
Or maybe it’s my blatant disregard for life
Most people are afraid to deny it
But not me though, I keep it old school like a mink coat
Rusty blade, at least 12 inches
With the tipped cracked off from stabbing to many bitches
I’m digging ditches with a mental mind state
Just slit up and get vicious within a dark place
Throw ya mercy on the head of my axe
And pray to God I don’t split you in half like train tracks
I can’t control it, so I just put it in my music
And hopefully other killas can use it
Don’t confuse it with the same old game
Cause the shit that I kick could put a glitch in your mainframe
Wicked to the bone I am
And you can meet me in the dark if you think I’m playing, what!
Serial Killa!
K-I-Double L-A
Fruitloop;
outta my mind like godzilla!
Kill!
Serial killa!
Killa, killa!
Butcher under the corpse.
Killa, killa!
Serial killa!
Killa, killa!
Who’s the Real Killer?
Who’s the motherfucka ya lovin' to hate
But in the midst’ll fuck with real millas
Trust ya bitch, we’ll jock, you’ll trip
We’ll shock with pistol cocked (this the shit to knock)
Who am I?
Amerikilla, gorilla, the Juggalizzle my nizzle
With Psychopathic I’m rapping, we set to gangrene
Who am I?
Killa killa, the pilla, banana fanna I feela
Nigga with a millimeter with the infrared beam
The axe is family, and for the family
I use the axe to separate your anatomy
Ain’t no being mad at me, the shit ain’t even worth it
I said I was a serial killa, not perfect
It’s not my fault that I can’t be trusted
And people like me aren’t all disgusted
Some’ll slit necks and into skull crushing
And killing people over next to nothing motherfucker
Serial Killa!
K-I-Double L-A
Fruitloop;
outta my mind like godzilla!
Kill!
Serial killa!
Killa, killa!
Butcher under the corpse.
Killa, killa!
Serial killa!
Killa, killa!