Violent J, Shaggy, Insane Clown Posse, baby what from New Ghandi to your momma we gives absolutly no fucks natural born serial murderers mass mothafuckin murderin muderers bitch, come and meet your maker
Im scary like Michael Jaskson up close I like diggin up dead bodies my name's Violent J but you can call me syphillis gonorrhea the clap cause i infected this rap you wanna know if i could ever kill somebody well thats like askin Charlie Manson if he's ever been in jail I kill family, friends, myself what, yeah, I'd kill myself if I could only survive I tried to kill Rob Van Winkle, in fact thats how we met I went up to kill him and he was thinkin the same shit I pulled out a chainsaw, he pulled out and ax I was like come-on, wait is that a Stanley, where'd u get that it's natural and to murder, you gotta have it in you it's like a dick all up in you, although I wouldn't now look at us natural killas the world most playa hated rapper and the most hated group together like woooo!
Ill pick ur motherfuckin brain with an icepick rap cujo ya know my flow is ferocious last survivor with a mouth full of cockroaches like the last days of the motherfuckin loafers I'm the redneck in the moshpit to answer Violent J, ya damn right its a stanley in the shadows of the dark with darkman like spawn in the dash blazin it up with explosive bombs I spit homicides like major cities at 11PM while zipping bodies in the dungeon like the line at GM ice mixed with blood is the killers milkshake here with the clowns from the underground it's a lyrical deathbreak
Disrespect me I'll run in your house break both your arms, gun in your mouth knock your teeth out with the nose of the fifth bullets bust through the back of your head ya die swift fuckin wit tha clan, watch what you say we kill *Beep: Lame Lyric Censor* shoot you with an SK or a AK bitch you gonna die either way I'm a monster thoroughbred gun holding weed-head cross me bet tomorrow you'll be dead catch you at a show while you're chilling with your ho and crack your skull with a bottle of Mo brooklyn home of the original gun clapping gats get brung, niggas get done sons lose fathers and mothers lose sons
OVERDUB: To die is a fate that must come to us all But how horrible to be buried alive from the darkness they shuffle eyes glazed with death
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