Murder Kill ’03 Q Strange

Brand New For 2003
That Murderous Shit

[Chorus]
Murda Murda Murda, Kill Kill Kill
I'm Q-Strange, they say I'm quite ill

[Verse 1]
I'm a basket case, I'm sure your path is demented
All this anger inside needs to be vented
Hey, yo don't be offended, when I slashin' ya face
Im doin' you a favor punk you off to a better place
A nutcase wit a taste for torture
A bloody butcher knife is in my hand ready to slaughter
I oughta get treatment for my sick mind
I saw my therapist Dr. Doom and he said I'm fine
But I'm about to watch you suffer kid
Strap you in a chair and put toothpicks in ya eyelids
Prying them open till you can't sleep for weeks
In ya own fecal matter, is all you can eat
And then for a treat, I might slice ya neck
Or maybe stab ya chest you'll be beggin' for death yes
When I write lyrics I don't need a pen or a pad
I just grab a knife and start to stab
And on my wall in drippin' blood I write my rhymes
I got eyeballs hangin' on my porch like wind chimes
And if you think that's sick, just open my fridge
I got two heads, a torso, and a couple limbs
In my trash bin I fill to the rims
With bloody guts, what the fuck, life is pretty grim
Severed heads scattered all over my lawn like a cabbage patch
I grab a ax, I kick ya nuts like a hackey sack
And that's a fact, I got the innovation that you lack
A wacky jack in a crappy act, singin' happy raps
But if it's sinister then that's a different story
Fuck keep it real man, I'd rather keep it real gory