ICP and Esham wicked rappers delight 2015 Feinds of the wicked shit its time to get high Bump your fuckin shit up for somthin wicked shit by Detroits legendary demon lopatara Staring you right back through your eyes in the mirror Blowing out your brains spontaneous combustion Lyrics like a barrel in each ear and im bustin Fire breathin wicked shit meltin microphones Blowing speakers into flames, settin fires to your home How many times you gonna say i need help Who gives a fuck if i murder myself Im thinkin suicidal thoughts i shot a gay preacher I didnt do my homework so i shot my teacher I dropped out the next day fuck a g.e.d Then i went and clowned the industry with ICP Through up the 313, to let them know it was me Esham is dope ho im the king of the D I stole a fuckin firetruck and drove through a wendys All that happen to me was a bullet in the kidneys I almost died then but look at me i ride again Whats really happenin, reality is pretend You can blow my fuckin head off ill just grow another My brain and my self, we dont even know each other Somones in the darkness crawling out of my closet door Thats what the nines in the mattress for Warlocks and witches come and learn from the master The walls of my home feature bodys in the plaster The dead but sticking out like hon solo when he froze With my favorite weapons hanging off there fingers and toes Wicked pimpin, scary bitches, livin or dead or with vampire fangs and they givin me head Like cemetery girls back dance boogie woogie baddy Her nedens big and blew out like a plate of spaghetti Im out cold all my teeth gold Plus i dont brush them Quarterback sneakin plus dont care(?) you rush em Bust em down bust em up steady fuckin em up But wait why do i have all this blood on my hands Blood on my clothes blood on my shoes Im on the 10 o clock news for steady Murdering crews and there point of views Im like purple chronic mixed with acid, demonic In a stomach full of jagermeister ready to vomit Mirror mirror on the wall tell us who the wicked are Shaggy E and Jay we in the game and gettin ours Hittin stars in there mouth and bumpin off with rented necklaces Wicked reckless nobody expected Bumpin this wicked shit'll boil your brain dead I can fry a mutha fuckin egg on your head Break in and tie your fuckin feet up to your neck Shoot you in the back once and kick you down the steps I blow a crater in the side of your head Do the same to your misses while yall sleepin in bed Double murder robbery just another job to me Rollin in a stolen buick hookers slobbin me Known though the farms lands as a duke of the wicked Always shootin the biggots and bootin the chickens Askin me the wrong question also triggers my disease They will find your body in compton in hallis(?) queens The phone rung and on the other end it was the president I cant talk right now im on the toilet takin a shit hung up the phone i think my cover is blown im deep cover Your wife ordered a pizza from me she got the meat lovers Im johnny bravo the other black reo(?) get at me ho I make these hos happy tho cause im there pappy oh Its to soon for you to be on my team But give r kelly a call i think like em 13 I once met a hooker and she did it for free On the west verner bus number 73 All the way in the back she was humping on me until i strangled the bitch and stuffed her under my seat I got off on my stop without as much as a drop of blood But then i realized i forgot to wear gloves Now im chasing the bus my finger prints are on her neck STOP! AND GIMME MY DEAD BITCH BACK! Fuckin dead bitches on a Ouija board all night Bustin off shots in the club we all fight Hanging muther fuckers my there neck off of street lights With there legs cut off tryin to read me rights (shiiit) I whip my cd at you, stick it in yo face Half way stickin out but look it still plays I stomp when i rap and i shake the whole block Stick my dick in your ear so you can hear what i got I was one of those monsters in the video thriller Known to the world as the pop star killer And on another part from the ground i arose Im the crusty ass booger hanging out of your nose Im the stink on your toes im the weed to your rose Not one of your friends but one of your foes And spittin the wicked shit is the life i chose Do a spin grab my nuts then b boy pose Chain you up for some tic tacs bloody mess We draw the board on your chest and take turns shootin the rest I win everytime, beep the beat is good with every rhyme And off with your head if in the way(?) your gettin mine This is esham and the wicked clowns for the vote We come flying out the dark with a triple moonsault I through a snowball so hard it replaced your eye It melted and left a fuckin hole and it was dry Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com