| Attack you like a blazing raptor
|
| You’ll never adapt to enslavement
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| You’ll be craving for your captors to clap ya
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| Crucified and defiled, extra gruesome and vile
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| You’re a douchebag so you got killed executioner style
|
| I spawn satanic raps like Lucifer’s child
|
| My automatic brap, right through your hooptie in style
|
| Jux you with bayonets from chariots carrying TEC’s
|
| Bury you in the casket
|
| The master of marionettes
|
| I’ll blast you like Bernard Goetz, this is as hard as it gets
|
| Beat you repeatedly like a retard with Tourettes
|
| Catch you in the street, and beat you to death for ten cents
|
| 'Cause your life is worth less, you’re worthless, yes
|
| Leave you a bloody mess, like drug traffickers
|
| Blasting slugs in the middle of traffic
|
| They’ll bust ya then laugh at ya
|
| Everyone dies, there’ll be another kingpin after ya
|
| Nobody gives a fuck when you’re layed up with a catheter
|
| Gat 0'9 Tales
|
| The Gat 0'9 Tales
|
| Ain’t nothing frail, fuck around and end up in jail with no bail
|
| Shit’s real
|
| Catholic, Jewish or Muslim
|
| Christian, Pagan or Atheist
|
| We all have the same fate, as humans: death awaits for us
|
| You should count your blessings, a bandage in dressing
|
| Around your intestines, it could of festered
|
| Almost breathless, non-confessing
|
| No more comp' in hip hop, this shit’s a disgrace
|
| We should piss on your face, then stomp you to death in flip flops
|
| Died on the mic, I’ll never forget how to grab you by your neck and slide into
|
| spite
|
| 'Cause killing you’s like riding a bike
|
| Grab a bitch by the collar bone, smack her in the cerebellum
|
| Yellin' get off that telephone, Earth is your home
|
| Blaze a tool at you, have you pushin' up daises
|
| But it doesn’t phase anyone, everybody’s acting like a lackadaisical
|
| Being pussy’s got you far, driving through the hood
|
| You scared to stop your car
|
| 'cause you think someone’ll pop you, par
|
| But you’re worse off coming across a cop car, when they toss your vehicle and
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| make up a reason to lock you up
|
| Gat 0'9 Tales
|
| The Gat 0'9 Tales
|
| Packing that steel, fuck around and end up in jail, 'cause someone squealed on
|
| real |