South of Heaven Circle of Tyrants

[Necro]
I'm carvin' a carcass, I'm a starving artist
Like Emerson, Lake and Palmer when they recorded Tarkus
I'm a commando, knocking you out like Fernando Vargas
Similar to Brando in Apocalypse
I’ll burn you like the eyes of Cyclops when he drops his shades
You can't stop the blades
You get crushed like you're in the back of a garbage truck...
Now ya' just cartilage
Mushed like the Battle of Carthage, my archers bring carnage
Upon my arch enemies sacrifice like a Partridge
Calico cartridges are a God's gift
During beef, with 15 cats where 16 caps wouldn't do it
I need at least 150 rounds to lay them all down dead forever
Exposing their red fluid
Boxes of bullets for coppers and oxes, obnoxious
Rockin' a wool rich Arctic jacket with a doo rag over my optics
Ratchet, Glock cocked, ready for action
Like Segal force you to pop lock till you fracture your bones, I manufacture
The dopest narcotics to hit since crack hit the streets
In capsules a few years after Blondie's "Rapture."

[Hook: Necro]
The flow is South of Heaven
Satanic underground, death metal rap, progressive verbal shredding
South of Heaven
Street shit, you know the steelo
I'll be stabbing you in the jugular vein of your neck
Like Pesci in the beginning of Casino