Check-ch-check ch-check, yo
[Hook]
Real sick hearing these pricks talk shit
They'll get their throats slit cause they're talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of these bullshit guys
They best go hide 'cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it 'Reservoir Dogs' style, slice off the ear
Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough, listen
[Verse 1]
I don't just talk the talk I walk it
That's why my mouth's always coming out with raw shit
My rap style's distorted, like Little Mo getting raped and keeping the baby
Instead of getting it aborted
Yo I talk morbid just to make you feel awkward
Death's a part of life yo you just can't ignore it
Especially when I rip out your heart and on my sleeve sport it
Like something you think is precious 'cause your dead gran bought it
I talk so foul; I talk so coarse. I show no regret; I show no remorse
Like a necromanic raping a corpse up the anal passage while contracting genital warts
My metaphors are twisted, like that game where you've got to put the Hob-Nob in your gob
If you're the last one to come on the biscuit
I'm so sadistic so I fantasise about finding my Mum's ex floating in a bathtub with his wrists slit
[Hook]
Real sick hearing these pricks talk shit
They'll get their throats slit cause they're talking to me like I'm thick
And I'm real tired of these bullshit guys
They best go hide 'cause I'm looking for them on the sly
Cause I've had it up to here, right up to here
Might have to do it 'Reservoir Dogs' style, slice off the ear
Cause I've had enough of bredders acting tough
Trying to get rough when it's obvious they ain't rough enough, listen
[Verse 1]
I don't just talk the talk I walk it
That's why my mouth's always coming out with raw shit
My rap style's distorted, like Little Mo getting raped and keeping the baby
Instead of getting it aborted
Yo I talk morbid just to make you feel awkward
Death's a part of life yo you just can't ignore it
Especially when I rip out your heart and on my sleeve sport it
Like something you think is precious 'cause your dead gran bought it
I talk so foul; I talk so coarse. I show no regret; I show no remorse
Like a necromanic raping a corpse up the anal passage while contracting genital warts
My metaphors are twisted, like that game where you've got to put the Hob-Nob in your gob
If you're the last one to come on the biscuit
I'm so sadistic so I fantasise about finding my Mum's ex floating in a bathtub with his wrists slit
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