[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, yo, yo, there's a dozen ways to die, six million ways to do it
Let's go through it, my mind flow like fluid
Torture, chop your legs up, thrown off the boat
Guillotine, nigga, one chop to the throat
Suffocation, Saran-wrapping your face
Buried alive, throw a few nails in the case
Manslaughter, eight degrees of separation
Leave your body chopped up in a piece, that's mutilation
[Verse 2: Inspectah Deck]
Six million ways to die, cyanide in your drink
Catch a Cuban necktie for your mink
Dahmer style, cut up and stuffed in the fridge
And maybe washed up ashore and found under the bridge
Hit him with the whip, drag him half a block
Machete or the sock full of padlocks
Chainsaw, switch your medication
Stomp a nigga out 'til he one with the pavement
[Verse 3: Masta Killa]
Torture, he's gruely peakin' at the meetin'
Suspicions of him bein' a rat? Even worse than cheatin'
I'm cold reekin' of ice picks, scratch and sticks and closed fists
Brass knuckle, steel-toe kicks
Cracked ribs, punctured lungs, hard breathin'
He's gaspin' and wheezin' for air, his breath he can't catch
He clenches the shirt on his chest
In a dyin' effort to reveal his last will before he was killed
Yeah, yo, yo, there's a dozen ways to die, six million ways to do it
Let's go through it, my mind flow like fluid
Torture, chop your legs up, thrown off the boat
Guillotine, nigga, one chop to the throat
Suffocation, Saran-wrapping your face
Buried alive, throw a few nails in the case
Manslaughter, eight degrees of separation
Leave your body chopped up in a piece, that's mutilation
[Verse 2: Inspectah Deck]
Six million ways to die, cyanide in your drink
Catch a Cuban necktie for your mink
Dahmer style, cut up and stuffed in the fridge
And maybe washed up ashore and found under the bridge
Hit him with the whip, drag him half a block
Machete or the sock full of padlocks
Chainsaw, switch your medication
Stomp a nigga out 'til he one with the pavement
[Verse 3: Masta Killa]
Torture, he's gruely peakin' at the meetin'
Suspicions of him bein' a rat? Even worse than cheatin'
I'm cold reekin' of ice picks, scratch and sticks and closed fists
Brass knuckle, steel-toe kicks
Cracked ribs, punctured lungs, hard breathin'
He's gaspin' and wheezin' for air, his breath he can't catch
He clenches the shirt on his chest
In a dyin' effort to reveal his last will before he was killed
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