Текст песни: WKCR 89.9 Freestyle 4/20/2000 + перевод

I’m extremely blunt

Shut this shit off if you’re a squeamish cunt

That can’t handle seeing the front of a head blown off for being dumb

Stop the pushin' pullin' and screaming

Death is ugly because you fear it

It’s beautiful to demons

So what you bust chrome

Take away your skin

You’re just bones

Get your guts blown out your stomach

'til pus forms

Now you’re an unknown

Better run home

Your spine stabbed from behind

Your physical destroyed

Like a mortician’s mind

Crucifix you when I shoot the pistol

And blow off your fucking head

All of your body parts are superficial

Useless tissue

You’ll get beat with fists

'Til blood is running down the concrete like piss

My drug medicates

Leave you dead and stiff like that bitch with a head of snakes

My butchering is flavor

Like Little Debbie cakes

I’ll drop an excellent beat

And burn it up like Mexican heat

Like dissection of meat

I’ll cut the track to pieces

It’s all about making G’s

So yo please

If I could I would sell crack to Jesus

The world is death

Blood sodomy war

The monster of gore

Entrepreneur

Constantly raw

Watch ever riddle unfold

Life is short and you have little control

Once your kidney is old

And your flesh is brittle and cold

You’ll find yourself in the middle of an old folks home

Sitting alone

DIE!

[I ain’t playin'

Check it

For all my goons all over the world

International

Irrational

I’m bashing you

Give me the cash duke]

Yo you’re a clown with bruised up ribs

Bound and abducted

KILL 'EM

Letting a fuck live’s counterproductive

You’ll be found in the ground with cut tits

Drowned in a bucket of piss

Actin' like you’re down with ruckus

When you sound like you suck dick

I have an obligation to massacre you like a hobgoblin

Chasin' you slashin' you

Guess what hydrochloric acid can do

Through observation

It looks like the blob erasing your face

A convenient casket for you

One of my songs will ruin your life

I’m committing the wrongdoing

Splitting you in two with a knife

I’m the intuitive type

I guess you wish you could live

But your death is a lucrative plight

The criteria for slaughtering

Is my Siberia frigid rap

Like a Nigerian spitting caps

Superior with an ax

That tourniquets

Wrappin' your skull cap

Like a fitted hat

'til it cracks

'til it fucking CRACKS!

[Scumbags!

Psycho-logic Records

Psycho-logical Records

'Cause it’s logical to be a psycho. (You'll get killed!)

Check this out

I’m just getting warmed up

We gon' do it like this

Check it (4x)

(drop!)]

Yo brutal

Hospital scalpel packing

I’ll flip you

24-inch machete on my hip

Ready to rip you

Whip out the blade swinging

Chopping dropping

Satanic doctrine

My brain’s dusted like Hoffman

A Glock 10 to your spine

Sadistic, sicko

Linguistic schizo

When you rockin' this I insist you sniff blow

Or die slow

Juxin' the track

Like I’m cookin' some crack

Lookin' to smack you in the face if you’re wack

It’s a Brooklyn attack!

Packin' an axe relax

My clique’s a whole batch of cats

With gats acrobats that clap

So shut up bitch

My box cutter slits open your lips

You’ll get yolked 'til you choke on your spit

You sluts got no nuts

Get off of my putz

Or you’ll be coughing up guts

A walking corpse with a crutch

For talking too much

The sick fuck

My clique’s evil sick people

Your shit’s feeble

Give up

[The beat

I hear the beat screwing up

Definitely the beat is chopped

That record is a chop beat

But it’s all good though

It’s all good though —

'cause Necro makes up!

We drop one more verse

Here, we can do this porn]

I need a delicate bitch

A bitch with a great set of tits

Give her some sedatives

My game’s negative

On proper etiquette

I like a woman that’s down to sell her clit

A bitch who’s inherited the skill of giving head to a dick

You’re a fucking cock sucking Confederate

You’re down to suck John Merrick’s dick

You’ve got a pair of generic tits

And you use them to your benefit

You’re a slut and that’s the end of it

Fuckin' cunts

What you think, I’ve got bitches --

Check it

You’re dead a queer

You bled out the rear

I’m walkin' through the ghetto with Ricky Martin’s head on a

Spear

Reppin'

I only fuck with naked bare hoes

In my world, women don’t wear clothes

Or they get crucified like scarecrows

Force me to kill

You’ll get murdered because of your grill

You’ll get strangled with your pants

Mangle you with my hands

Rip off your ears

Poke out your eyes

Bite off your nose

You’re about to die

Your sight is gross

Like a transvestite exposed

I’ll clap your mind

Writing raps on your spine

Let’s practice crime

You’ll get raped

By dirty dicks

Your dirty tits

Get split until they drip pus

And you’re one pretty murdered bitch

You never heard me spit?

I’ll spit in your face

And suffocate you

I love to hate you

Wait duke

I’m baggin' skins

Got nothin' but arrogance

For your mannequins make out of ceramic and limbs

I’ll slay you

Wrap guitar strings around your fuckin' neck

That’s how I play you

[The beat cut up again

It keeps doing it

But you’ll die for that!]

Check it

Cut the circulation

Bloody perspiration

Study the Earth’s creation

Leave you shakin'

When I dismiss my hate through perverse verbatim

Check it, Hyde — RIP IT!

Your spine is caught on my blade — Now you got cancer

Cut your time short — like the lifespan of a hamster

Dance on you with cleats — old spikes underneath

It’s duck huntin' season — and your crew’s lookin' like geese

Even though the Fed’s listen — I make the red glisten

You sit in bed writhing with 'fourth 'ya head missin'

Provoke the porcupine — your face is holdin' pins

Be an Art Garfunkel — ram and rape the Olsen Twins

Stared at your clique — 'think they’re daring and shit

Trying to play gorilla — with no hair on your dick

Run up on you while you’re sexing — hang you with condoms

Give it to Assad — feel like angry Ugandans

Queen’s hit-man — chargin' 3 g’s a kill

Fill my mark’s arm with heroin — like C C DeVille

Poison in your veins — all my boys are skilled to maim

Rip out the hearts of men — if you singing like a cardigans

Ain’t no bargaining — fuck the deal’s close

Bust you like a poaching nigga break a baby seal’s nose

For all you hoes!