im crushin' backs in with raps packed with baseball bats bitch
ive had it up to here its clear, i'm fuckin weird theres so many cadavers
in my attic im a addict for flesh, intrest-
-ed in the the blood of my enemies when I get it i'll rest
My plan is to brandish an automatic, splatter the blood then use the same hand to make a sandwich.
My nine makes contact with your stomach, your ribs get to smashin
You hit the fuckin casket while I sit back laughin reminiscing how this all happened
How tragedy struck the faggot he ain't shit now fuckin with me he'd rather wish he hadn't.