Ron Braunstein Ft. Ill Bill & Mr. Hyde - Tyrannical | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Ron Braunstein Ft. Ill Bill & Mr. Hyde
• Tyrannical

[Verse 1: Ill Bill]
Torture you for drug money and laugh, we the funniest
We find humor in things we leave bloodiest
Goons from the NYC, Canarsie
ILL CaniBILL, ya'll know who the fuck I be
On stage and paranoid, I be carryin' heat
Cause what happened to Dimebag ain't gonna happen to me
I'm poppin' that grey ratchet, honour Mark David Chapman
Spaz out and bash in his face with a hatchet
Take it in blood, sniff lines between hatred and love
Between your body and the case in the slugs
Make bass stomp like Geddy Lee on stage with Rush
190 BPM's laced with dust
We the tyrannical, my tabernacle's mechanical
Fanatical with the appetite of a cannibal
Splatter your fuckin' head in half like a cantelope
I'm the disease and there is no antidote

[Verse 2: Necro]
Kill back, liberate your brain quick,
And puff a brick of weight,
Smoke 'til you deteriorate
Tittelate and invigerate
Articulate sick hate
Get your chestplate trigger-sprayed
Instigate and pick a date for your death
A knife in your throat, a slug in your back
Pick your fate
Watch it miss and ricochet off your brain
'Til you sit and lay in a bed in a cripple state
The autopsy will stipulate, the gun shot's incel bait
With the beat, incubate
Ain't it plain to see?
If there's any one cat that'll murder your brain, it's me
I'm established and anguished
Like Genghis Khan holdin' a shank, kid
Spittin' Satanic slanguage
I speak brutal truth, beef with me, you will lose
What you wanna do? It's for you to choose

[Verse 3: Mr Hyde]
Shoot the grapple hooks, kid, I caught you with words
Shit is evil like an old man torturing birds
Straight halitosis, my style is the grossest
Whoever's closest will feel the ferocious
Impact of my blade, let you capped with the fade
You're trapped in my maze full of lactating maids
So happy you stayed to enjoy the carnival
You'll be fitted for a noose, hanging like a barnacle
Inflict a vicious scar the size that midgets are
Three feet deep in a ditch in Wichita
Punk paranoid pussy, you pissed your underwear
Rip, cut and tear, kid, your blood in Tupperwear
Live a pessimist life, suicide is appealing
Hang myself from the ceiling dangling like an earring
Veins and a belt, inject the heroine
Methadone 'til you're gone, kid, I'm killing everyone

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