Letras
Born up in a mosh pit, comfortable with violence
Love the sight of blood, it don't even make me nauseous
I like countin' profits, I ain't with the gossip, put this fuckin
Blade to your throat and do the honors
I pull up in a hearse, drop the top right in the projects
If he poppin shit, dump his body in the marshes
Decomposing rotten, zombie with no conscience
Walkin' through this world thoughts of suicide often, yeah
She like the way that I talk, I'm in the back of her throat
I get the pussy and go Smokin' this wood all alone
Lookin' at you through the scope, rap beam on em' boom
He don't even know what hit him, Pussy boy don't even know I split em
Snipe up close make em do a backflip and
Smoke that pack I don't feel no different
You so real, yeah, yeah, I get it
Tell that shit to somebody who give a
Fuck up out my face, this shit fill me up with rage
I don't even fuckin' talk, if I ain't got no shit to say
Bitch don't get it twisted, introduce you to my blade, carve you up like a turkey
If you live then give thanks
In a mosh pit, comfortable with violence
Love the sight of blood, it don't even make me nauseous
I like countin' profits, I ain't with the gossip, put this fuckin
Blade to your throat and do the honors
Born up in a mosh pit, comfortable with violence
Love the sight of blood, it don't even make me nauseous
I like countin' profits, I ain't with the gossip, put this fuckin
Blade to your throat and do the honors