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Song Info
Genre
Charts
#19,146 in subgenre
Peak #185
Charts
Peak #6,142
Rights
Profound Records
Uploaded
December 10, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.1 MB • 128 kbps • 3:23
Lyrics
plastic bags cut of ya respiration from fuckin fags i need to stop the circulation
your cancerious concentration plans for this cremation
you flesh burns for talkin shit this compensation
and i dotn give a shit liek im experianceing constepation
take ya organs out and ya lungs makes a christmas decoration
this song is so cleary a dedication to death rap and our celebration
we were ment to be evil and cleanse the world as gods creation
he took dead body's in heaven to be readied for examination
the red dot on your head was a simple invitation
to leave you in meditation in preperation guns made you start levitatin
so you see the realization that its an obligation cuz we gave you a reservation
the situation was covered through revalations to unplift your soul and start your termination
this transformation sent from your administration no vaccination just death and violation
dead for the first time just from your asscociation congradulations
i use imagination mixed with infatuation to make you detah seem like a hallucination
thoughts of death swirl around in my head starting some manifestation
kill all your affiliates with chainsaws in your organization
not makin specification just makin gods death patients
there is death in the streets on the rose city
and bodies found underground in different decomposition phases
not beneath the surface of the city
they are uncovered on people porches and on storefronts
guts devoured witness the fatality live in immortality
theres poetry in the streets of the rose city it gets gritty it aint pretty bad boys who dont dance liek diddy
ill throw your chopped limbs into a meat grinder
just an arm and let you live as a reminder
my desire is the fire on a lier wet with gasoline made drier
ther attire you aquired is requeired before your life retires
you need one last scream its dire
so gasp your lastbreathe while i clamp your neck with the wire
hitman for hire getting higher hitting you with swords and tires
leave you witha closed casket left in front of the choir
holding my markings on your forehead liek a squiar
covered your body in barbed wire
admired from a dyrer by the buyer
by the by i dont care of what happened prior
