(Necro) Uh Peep the killer shit Death murder rap shit Bitch Check it [Necro] The press, runs to tape record the bloody mess Documentations so the human race can study death They'll reach in through your TV speaker They'll feature a creature That will beat ya to death, if he can meet ya You're executed when you're electrocuted Who's responsible for a homeless man that's dead And smells putrid We murdered your natural flesh after bein thrown in a river You'll be frozen forever into a statue of death A grasshopper in the lab dead Stabbed in the head Knives are like the hands of a crab Jabbin your flab till you wrapped them and bled Throw you off a building Killin' off your children Drillin' holes in your corpse till your spillin' the colour vermillion We'll split your brains I'll slit your veins The impact of a bat cracked across your back Is like gettin' hit by a train I'll stick a fang in your blood bank Then strangle My shangle bangle You like the triangle Piece of an angle I think my shit's too brutal for most I might be the only one capable of digesting the dose You won't survive a screw driver driven inside your throat Choke on blood and saliva another kaniver croaks [Hook - Necro] It's poetry in the streets of the big apple And a vitality found in few other places But look beneath the surface of the city And you shall uncover a steamin sesspool of human emotion Gone sour, a planet, where nightmares That become reality Witness the brutality Its poetry in the streets of the big apple You get tackled And grappled to the floor, white slaved up and shackled [Ill Bill] I spit on your grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your face Grind you into slop meat and serve you to your friends We bringin' bad taste Another brutal shootin' rampage Turnin humans to ashtrays Groupies to crack slaves And boobies that lactate Squirtin' mad milk, I never have guilt I have krills, I'll have you fags killed In front of your mom and dads grill Splatter both of them With pieces of your explodin' head Brain fragments are stainin' clothing red I make you love the pain, it hurts We make music for drug addicts, pieces of shit, that love the dirt Its psychological I'm like havin' a rifle shot at you We not the type that smile at you We the type that body you Slit your throat with the broken bottle Pieces of jagged glass stabbin' you through your fuckin eyeballs Have you swallowin cyanide screamin' "Die whores!" Kill your physical first, next your minds lost Leave you in the funeral home you make a fine corpse Got you splattered across the walls with my nine tongues Murder you execution style like a crime boss Travel through time and terminate you like a cyborg My mentality's grindcore [Hook]