Knife in Your Spine (Satanic Wordplay)

(Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
Dying Times here)
The brutalest rapper on Earth will murder you through a verse
Murder you in person personally
I personify pervertedly hurting you
Perfectly, powerfully smashing you, potently picture perfect
Pandemonium, pleasureful pain, I condone the sin
Damnation rap attracts devastation, gats levitation
Medication Axe, hacks into your back revelation
Premonition, demolition, death doctrine, concoction
Cock the Glock back when there’s no option for boxin
A representation of hesitation, pulling it out
And not using it a disaster waiting for procrastination
Rockin black Reeboks, chasing you for 3 blocks
Face it you’re dead, gun smack you and pop you with 3 shots
In the back of you waiting mysteriously, seriously
Destroy you deliriously, like a conspiracy theory
The spirits are near me, don’t irritate me
The pirates of violence will ooze the virus of science that created me
The ambassador of massacre, mass murdering slurs
Trafficking white slaves in the world this racket occurs
Shotguns with pump action, dump fractions of metal shrapnel
Actual caps peeled in your physical capsule
My lyrics factually, naturally, more rugged
Then you average savage if you average it mathematically
Numerically sticking your wrists with picks
The count Down to the blitz, evil like Mxyzptlk, 666
[Death comes in the worst way…
Death comes in the worst way
Through Satanic wordplay here’s a knife in your spine.
Death comes in the worst way…
You can’t beat it join it
Death comes in the worst way
Through satanic wordplay here’s a knife in your spine.]
I got the mind of a poacher with the pride of a soldier
Use the lion and cobra, I’ll apply when I’m older
See majority counts, I’m selling gore by the ounce
I’m pretty sure the amounts a little more than a douse
You’re soaked by sickness, provoke my instincts
You’ll be cut to giblets, your throats and wrists slit
Jab your jugular, it hurts, stab your skull until it squirts
Your blood’ll burst and add another color to your shirt
Turn your feet to chopped meat, you’ll be bludgeoned and vicked
Leave your teeth in the concrete and your skull on a stick
All delusions of grandeur get excluded from stanzas
No eluding the panther, the ensuing of cancer
You get exquisite visits by blades that make incisions
A vision of you bitches to bits with Richard Scissors
Slicing through you fucks will leave a scuff on my sword
Guts will slide across the floor like a puck in shuffleboard
My Glock is shot with force, leaving you a rotting corpse
100 Molotov’s to cause a jungle holocaust
Don’t fear the reaper, cause I’m just a fact of life
What you should fear, is once you’re dead I’ll probably attack your wife
Give your girl something to watch, putting roaches in her crotch
Chop the package into part, and put the postage on the box
When the chromes spit, your dome’s split, the kiss of death is blown bitch
Leave you in a cold stiff, stinking like the homeless