"I don't really like to
Hear the squealing animals
In the cemeteries, when they
Do their rituals
But they give me free vodka!"
Y'all ain't about nothin'
I'm bustin' a hundred rounds at you
I'm Pack Pistol Pazzy
I'm poppin' like 40 rounds at you
This bulldog barks and it mean that
I'm sickin' hounds on you
We puff a pound or a two
Pazienza just insurmountable the Goma-2 raw
And the substance wasn't compoundable
It's bodies everywhere and they try
To hold me accountable
The Burberry bag is boujee
And booty bountiful the bankroll blickie
The names ain't even pronounceable
It ain't a ounce of you that could
Fathom havin' a bout at you
The weaponry is wonderous
Numbers ain't even calculable
I stomp you out and pull the Beretta, money
It's marvelous
The gladiator war, fight with Gannicus
This is Spartacus!
The seventy disciples of Judaizers
Is the Barnabas
A reconstruction of the Acropolis
Beg us pardon us the deeper the abyss is the
Deeper into the Tartarus
The AK diesel, the drum is a hippopotamus
He a dead man walkin' that's a body!
Get his head popped talkin' that's a body!
This a hundred round drum that's a body!
Where we from? That's the
Slum that's a body!
He a dead man walkin' that's a body!
Get his head popped talkin' that's a body!
This a hundred round drum that's a body!
(ta ta ta ta ta ta ta)
Where we from? That's the
Slum that's a body!
Yeah, y'all still about nothin'
I'm choppin' you with a tomahawk
Allah hates a coward
You do a lot of vagina talk
It's "as-salamu alaykum"
I greet him with lots of Gaza talk
Headshot medulla oblongata on a plaza walk
I caught too many homi's
Now it's time for me to find a morgue
Go here a rhymer dawg
It's another vagina monologue
I'll take you to a digital death
The place with no analog
I have your bones shakin'
I break 'em like marijuana laws
It ain't no other boss that's
As ill as me, son, it's lunacy
The leftist ideology killin'
The black community
You need a couple bodies
Just give me the opportunity
You milli mild muhfuckers
Is makin' buffoonery
It ain't no unity, ain't
No talkin' it out, it's hammer time
I'm movin', B, but I don't be talkin'
I'm like a pantomime
And I don't think that bein'
A p***y should be romanticized
I run with motherfuckers that's
Diddy-boppin' and vandalize
He a dead man walkin' that's a body!
Get his head popped talkin' that's a body!
This a hundred round drum that's a body!
Where we from? That's the
Slum that's a body!
He a dead man walkin' that's a body!
Get his head popped talkin' that's a body!
This a hundred round drum that's a body!
(ta ta ta ta ta ta ta)
Where we from? That's the
Slum that's a body!
---
Blood On My Hands - Vinnie Paz
