
Somebody better call the cops! We’ll throw rocks and smash shit Because I’m down to the most intricate ligament detachment action Closed-captions are the gross fractions Of the percentage of song-writers that host caskets Want to see the Cage album or get clapped to hear it? Bludgeon you to death, minutes later shootin' your spirit! Shootin' a porn I got a quick role; Empty the clip in this bitch, fuck the wound 'Till the slug’s up in my dick hole Wastin' mine and the crowd’s time Thought you had beef standing there with a cow’s spine And I’m eatin' the heart Get beaten apart, painting with your arms — leaking the art Somebody get this kid a bandage While I’m stabbing where your adrenaline gland is in front of cameras Tryin' to balance a nuclear warhead on your forehead Pullin' soul food through your stomach to dip the cornbread Fucking with us, we’ll leave you stuck in the dirt With your fiance and my fingers up in her skirt Weathermen for life, as long as I’m stuck on the earth And if a bitch don’t swallow, what the fuck is she worth? We get grimy, haven’t showered for days; flies behind me Grimy, I can pick your lock in 6 seconds; time me Grimy, I don’t give a shit if you like me or don’t like me As long as you see us you keep your mouth locked tightly You’ll shit your drawers, before I spit two bars I’m everything you’re ashamed to admit you are When God said let there be light, I appeard You thought I debuted on World Premiere? I was here Made a blind man tell me what color my eyes are Made a deaf girl complain on what level the highs are Last one to cyph with us, I sliced them up To who I’m shittin' on, you ain’t nice enough To waste a written on The Weathermen, we’re comin' up to get you I can’t think of a stage name dumb enough to fit you I hit you with six 2 by 4s, Crews I floor Picked up his watch, turned to his bitch like «You my whore!» I’m too hot, stop this man When I was born 3rd degree burns were left on the doctor’s hands You want mine? The mic’s your dad’s buckle These punchlines are spiked with brass knuckles Underwater I breathe and move quicker than you I know heads that been dead for decades sicker than you They’re my dogs I’ll sick 'em on you. And my pets are vicious Shit, I’m the owner, Go fetch my slippers Besides us ain’t it too many rippin' My brainstorm floods with enough thought for y’all to skinny dip in And I forever burn steady, since Adam was put in a garden And if y’all weren’t ready, you shouldn’t have started
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