goretex - extreme makeover | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• goretex
• extreme makeover

(Verse 1)
The Canarsie (?), paints with G's and murderers
Addicts and cadillacs
Slut teens and project burglars
Shiksas, swappers and gurglers
More food for the furnace
More goons and pounds of shrooms
More wounds to purchase
Glenwood mourge, third floor
With gore in the winter, I'm flawless
Sinister tauren, crawling off of your sister
Date rape is boring
Tissue sample's the best
I don't get stressed
Drugging these bitches, it's only at their own request
Unconscious and blessed, forget an apology
Too progressive, (similar to an atomic proctology?)
We stock (rugus?) with bonesaws, crawling for sodomy
Zoloft smile, I'm wild, caught up in this Space Odyssey
Rest in peace, denim when we dress the deceased
Gets sprayed in the (?), bloody mess, next to your feet
Too professional
I'm quick to chop you off like sectionals
Extreme makeover, rocking the pens like vegetables

(Chorus)

The final takeover
Get your wig cut, Extreme makeover
Desentitized, I don't feel a thing, the pain's over
Look in my eyes man, you'll die before the day is over
The newest change in your life, homie it's game over

(Verse 2)

I was raised in black
With a sick nat to attract women
Crack villains
We knocking off drug stores like Matt Dillon
With capital trips
(Which your poison?) acid to dips
Have em smacking eachothers tits
In the back of the 6
Serial killers
Blowing up like branched Davidians
Non Phixion insignia, cripple your camp like syrians
See me, it's cool
Haters tryna dump on my shit
Scissor fights since '74, they pumpin my clip
Different bible studies
It's always 5 G's in commissary
These runaways, forever find pain, caged in my monastery
Six sadists, my fanbase deranged like rapists
Nothing's changed, it's faith, all my drug pushers and sixth graders

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)

Knocking on heavens door, (score/gore?) (you're goon with?) (islami/swami?)
Shoot you to pulp, flesh dangles like melted pastrami
You faggots are commies
Swap cum like Macy (in/and?) Cosbys
I'm like Ozzy in '68, moshpits and Zombies
Pound you to dust, home attendents changing your diaper
In between nights, I'm maintaining and training with snipers
Your (wig is a rave?)
Turned up with cake and crons
Haze blunts around the room while we burn the Quran
We on bodybags and tags for corpses that's vacant
It's a must without the fuzz, and compromise the cremation
So clean, murders scenes, devoid of conscience
Profit the doctor, scissor chops blocks, it's progres

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