Tekstovi: Mr. Hyde. Barn Of The Naked Dead. The Crazies.

(feat. Goretex, Ill Bill, Necro)

The Crazies, live in the subways
Completely control the underground
They're Night Raiders

[Mr. Hyde]
Yo
Don't be concerned about what you heard about me word of mouth
Facts I'll take the burner out and blow your fucking sternum out
I'll keep the fragments, little pieces of your clavicle
In my cabinets to prove you 'aint shatter proof
Put the four fifth to you, let all four clips in you
Pain experience is like a Pitch George grip to you
Now you scarecrow dead, watch me tear whole heads
Off at their shoulders I cough as you smolder
Fresh ash particles contaminate the sky
From your flesh barbeque, inhale it to get high
Or pull the tool in your bless, leave you laying on the deck
fuck your bullet proof vest son, I'm aiming for your neck
Now your beautiful jugular is soaking up my rug
'Aint no crews rugged'er, I'll prove it with a slug
See, we psycho+logical your team's methodical
We back slap fag rappers like bitch prostitutes
Scream, and pray its only a nightmare
And hope your gaping throats really only a slight tear
In truth you slice right with the nice nine inch knife
Every trife rhyme I write ignite twenty-five alike

[Goretex]
Barn of the naked dead
Garnish your flesh, carving your head
Me and the Covent starve women till there orange and red
Take creep pictures, renounced, I'm the young Keith Richards
I'll turn a MILF evil, feed her some speed with killer mixtures
Riding Bibles like a man tongue
We slime buckets, where sluts get gutted, fucked and punched
With there tampons, a blood fetish
A monstrous grimace like Al Fish
A moment of silence the count is about to affix
Playing God is such a thrill for me
My young ministry with six women become un-inhibited they kill for me
The God of love, I leave scars and misery
See letting these women go don't make sense, it's a sin to me
The night surgeon, I flip it like a Christ diversion
Welcome to Hell, selling souls right in person
The gore merchant, murder for pigs is always worth it
Expressed male, set my panties and bloody curtains

[Ill Bill]
Call me the sad wings of destiny
Spread across the planet like leprosy
Destroying your entire life's legacy
Nuclear priest, fire storm, human defeat
My goons are elite, murdering you with the tools of the street
The morbid sorcerer, forty four magnum officer slaughterer
Calling your coroner, crash street at the corner of Lauberman
Jumping the L, between cars puffing the L
Robbing you on the way to Carnarsie for something to sell
And I will strike down upon the with great vengeance and furious anger
Burying you with illirious bangers
A total nightmare, chrome nines appear
Walking with no sign of fear
Designed to tear you with this piece of these vagina scare
Pussy clot, ill guerilla pimp make the pussy pop
Another rookie cop got shot another pussy drop
Either we mad men or mysterious villains
Or billionaires, sociopaths, or serial killers

[Necro]
Murder rappers with a shooting titanium microphone
Bullets in your brain rip threw cranium like Styrofoam
Four thugs who step to me who catch belly slugs
Now your four faggits dead laid out in a row covered in smelly rugs
Dieing to meet ya, slice up each feature
Your grill's a bloody mess, your face looks like a piet pizza
Like bleeding pimples, we hold katanas
The scientist analyst, I'm breeding pit bulls and piranhas
The messiah, I 'aint nothing but a creep in a trench
They found Jesus downtown Brooklyn sleeping on a bench
Lobotomy class, we experiment cut and stitch
Open your brain up and analyze it to find out why your such a bitch
Put gats to you
Throw you in a lake naked with a block of cement attached to you
I don't sweat to shoot you (uhn uh)
Rather cut your spleen on screen like a Tom Savini scene
Execute you