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Necro - You`re Dead

на свой мобильный!
Отправь SMS с текстом 55788-113-13641 на номер 5537.

Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.

[Verse 1]
Ahhhhhh, necro!
Yo, the most morbid overdose off it
Like cindy crawford`s baby comatose in the coffin
I`m awful, often unlawful
Crack you with a softball in your skull
Until you`ve lost all your memory, every morsel
Mutilate the beat, rejuvenate the street
While you duplicate, repeat
Leave you lookin like bloody lubricated meat
I`ve got a gun to pull
And I`m comfortable
Pumpin a full clip into the wonderful front of your skull
Your life is not refundable, stumble into the underworld
Where bigger hoes than you didn`t come to your girl
Bustin off like I`m huntin for squirrels
A bullet hits you ripping your muscle like a hundred curls
And that`s that, you bullshit artists
Can catch an ascap when you clap right through your knapsack backpack
Through an intruder`s chest right through the flesh
Shove the knife in deep coz life is cheap
Like hookers from Budapest

Chorus:
You`re dead dead, you`re dead dead, you`re dead dead
Dead
You`re dead dead, you`re dead dead, you`re so dead
And that`s what I said
You`re dead dead, you`re dead dead, you`re dead dead
Dead
You`re dead dead, you`re dead dead, you`re dead dead
(So dead) that`s what I said

[Verse 2]
Ill Bill`s seen demons in back of taxi cabs
My thoughts attack me like a bad acid tab
Or a crack drag or Black Flag
Tales from the darkside, mandatory suicide
You and I collide, member suit and ties arrive
Driving medicated, then the thoughts within the dream accelerated
Then some other motherfucker levitated
Talkin bout some vampire shit like he`s dedicated
Decapitated that fuckin faggot then I celebrated
Fuckin with me you fuckin with psychos
Gunshots and knifeholes, walk on my tightrope, you know how life goes
It`s like a dice roll, I love the drama, my mind is set to kill you
Spill your blood everywhere, like the broken glass of wine
And under the path of disaster of a bastard by design the blast and I
Fuck these bitches, love the cash and cry
And we all sick, quick to torture you,
Cut off your balls and stuff em down your throat
Like you sniffed a pound of coke, you`re startin to choke

Chorus

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