
Date of issue: 10.09.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Say Cheese And Die |
Kill 'em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him Born II Die, blaow! |
Kill 'em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him pull loose thang |
Nigga, I can’t get fucked in this game, I’m a psychopath |
My AK told me to shove him up some nigga’s ass |
I’m having long conversations with mister millimeter |
He’s one of my best friends, bitch-ass-nigga-eater |
Kill 'em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him Born II Die, blaow! |
Kill 'em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him pull loose thang |
Smoke lines on my face from the cigarettes, always burnin' |
Combination of the drugs and the chronic, got me slurrin' |
It’s that don’t fear no busta |
187 a sucka, kill a motherfucker |
Climbin' out of nothin' |
Me love da gun, me love to kill a rat |
Me smokin' on a sack, turn me into psychopath |
Chomp, chomp! |
Eat another xan |
Me don’t fear no man that can bleed like I can |
Rag on my face like I am Taliban |
This scene is the ocean, and I am the Sandman |
Hold up, lemme glo' up |
Ruby with the stance while my eyes steady rollin' |
Oozing get the bands, while I stick up and I hold 'em |
Screaming «fuck the man!» |
while the middle fingers go up |
That redrum, that redrum, written all on my bedroom |
Kill 'em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him Born II Die, blaow! |
Kill 'em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him pull loose thang |
Nigga, I can’t get fucked in this game, I’m a psychopath |
My AK told me to shove him up some nigga’s ass |
I’m having long conversations with mister millimeter |
He’s one of my best friends, bitch-ass-nigga-eater |
Kill 'em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him Born II Die, blaow! |
Kill 'em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him pull loose thang |
I been pickin' flies off the eyelids of sinner’s kids |
Coming to claim your religion, opinion formed by television |
Never listen to the voices inside of your fucking head |
I died and now I’m dead |
What is life when you in debt to the reaper? |
Fuck a hole, dig deeper |
Whether it is in the ground or spread apart by bitches fingers |
Let me linger, hook, line, and sinker |
Trained by the teacher, raped by the preacher |
Not saved by the leader, put a blade to his neck |
Told him, «Run away and never look back—that's a threat» |
Then I turned to the flock, said, «You're no longer oppressed» |
But they follow me anyway, never taught to think for themselves |
Belt tied 'round my neck, I’m the $uicidal $hepherd |
$now Leopard bounced a check |
Hot boy, bitch, I’m peppered |
Never gave a fuck what a bitchboy gotta say |
He can never levitate from out his motherfucking grave |
Kill 'em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him Born II Die, blaow! |
Kill 'em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang |
S-P-I-C-E-1, dem say him pull loose thang |
Name | Year |
---|---|
Antarctica | 2016 |
Paris | 2016 |
Kill Yourself (Part III) | 2015 |
...And To Those I Love, Thanks For Sticking Around | 2020 |
Champion Of Death ft. Getter | 2020 |
Runnin' Thru The 7th With My Woadies ft. Pouya | 2015 |
My Flaws Burn Through My Skin Like Demonic Flames from Hell | 2015 |
2nd Hand | 2017 |
Dead Batteries | 2015 |
New Chains, Same Shackles | 2017 |
Jeffer Drive | 2016 |
Putrid Pride | 2020 |
$outh $ide $uicide ft. Pouya | 2015 |
Coma | 2018 |
For the Last Time | 2018 |
Lamar Avenue | 2017 |
Venom ft. Shakewell | 2017 |
praisethedevil | 2016 |
That Just Isn't Empirically Possible | 2020 |
Can Of Worms | 2015 |