Myles Malice - Patrick Bateman | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Myles Malice
• Patrick Bateman

Dont fuck up the beat, yah, hit a mutha fucka with the heat, yah
Cut em with a knife life line deplete, imma end this shit control, Alt, Delete
While most ya'll write your rhymes for the paper, I set fire to currency
I could give a fuck about fame, really fed up with the game, hence why ya ain't heard of me
I fly under the radar, killin with a saber, like vadar, wanna hop up on my tools named maynard
Ya betta think twice, your blowin up my gaydar
Looks like i'll have ta rip your hair out, fashion up a wig, an wear it while i cut your throat and gut ya like a pig, BITCH
Six feet deep in a ditch, you dig, you dont really wanna fuck with a dick this big
I'm runnin right up in your houses, fist up in spouses, fill em up, light that cig
And wait, for the day, you step up to my fuckin face, ya little bitch
Really wish you'd wipe that smile off, ya won't find it funny when the blade meets wrist
I kill it, get it? got it, GOOD, gut a mutha fucka chop it up like wood
Leave a puddle of blood where the mic once stood, compete with a nuttbag? wish you could
Damn, black and white's straight runnin this shit through the day in night
Who's puttin up a fight? point em out, lemme grab my knife, imma spit up on the mic and imma take his life

HOOK
I'm a Pretty Sick Guy (4x) I'm attackin rappers with passion, slash and stab em, cut em up but why? i'm a pretty sick guy (6x) I'm attackin rappers with passion, slash and stab em, cut em up but why? I'm a pretty sick guy (2x)

Sick and sadistic when I rip it get stuck, ya bish
In the back of your throat i'll piss, then i'll fuck your chick
I'll put your ass in a box, Chop Chop, make ya fit
OH, I deliver the fire, hot, burn ya shit
Cuz i'm insane in the brain but I never complain, inflict pain and maintain
My psycho sick game and if a label wanna shit on my name, get stained
Neglect From a record exec.? fuck em, show no coward respect
I'll put em up in hearses on purpose, no playin possum with threats
These Words spit by Malice infect, These words spit by malice infect
I can hear ya bitchin whatcha really wanna get it? imma cut your fuckin tougne out, fry it in the kitchen
These words spit by Malice infect, these Words Spit by Malice infect
Quick cut with the machete, now my clothes all reddy, betta call the coroner i got the bags already
Makin brain confetti, got the blades like freddy, well what a ya know your toe tagged already
Gettin brain, that becky, drain a vein, perfect, thee flow is on another mutha fuckin Page Betty
Kill em on the beat I"ll fuck em up and leave em leakin if i'm x pill peakin imma nut up on your mommy
Any pussy mutha fucka comin ta bring the beef on me i'm breakin every bone, fold em up, Origami

HOOK

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