Lyrics:
and killed as many of your fellow kind
as i will to let go
and still you wind and bitch
and moan and switch the bone you pick
and i'm getting so very fucking
All those planning disasters, monuments to the masters
And the dog dark dealings of its backroom bastards
Every long lost dream, every failed
you piece of shit
Fucking bastard
Piece of shit
Bastard
You rat bastard piece of shit
God damn stupid motherfucking swindling ass
Me
Me
M E R C
Better
Jesus! Won't I bleed 'em in the end!
Master of the house, quick to catch yer eye
Never was a passerby to pass him by
Servant to the poor, butler
rapper?
I'm the top pick, ha
The flow is elegant, never irrelevant
How many times must I say this?
Cock back and spray this, never delay this
I pray this,
Used by cops who fucked inside abandoned boarding houses
Go on fast before the beast catches the bastard
Draggin' the chain down, down, down
Who'll
HE CAME THROUGH
By Russ Taft
Picture Moses by the red sea shore
Pharoah knows they can't run no more
Water way too deep and wide
They can't swim,
daughters
This is the season of death
By the skin of your martyrs
Vultures of the senates - Rats of the throne
Keep filling up those body-bags
Corpse by
Poor Pavel even though your mom’s a model
You walk these streets panhandling
For a gold bottle
Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat
So it’s up
young thing like to bone
And she hate to spend her nights alone, baby doll you in the zone
Why not call me on the phone, and invite me home
Come on,
thing
Don't know why I didn't see it before
You misused me for so long
Threw me love
Like you throw an old dog a bone
That's why the name of this
One harmless mistake and me fighting days are done
But I swear to those poor sods, when I go abroad
I'll make it back with far fewer bullet holes
It's
to catch yer eye
Never wants a passerby to pass him by
Servant to the poor, butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate!
Everybody's
the sport
Coats of the season
And surrounded by his whole Odd Future crew
The ascendant singer opens up to
Amy Wallace about his crazy
Year including the bomb
been here
N' yet no legal status! ! Republican bastards! ! These dreamers, they seem
Uhhh! ! Leechers, to those right wing leaders! ! No amount
It’s a prison for the poor. So it’s a prison for this man.
So what I gotta do? (grind it)
When I’m partying (grind it)
Or M. I. A. (grind it)
Living by
I'm like your mom I deliver
Plus one I never settle
I pick off bitches in panoramic
There's plenty several
I'm promising I'll get those commas in
Cause
the street to the corner store
And by store I mean the pickup in the parking lot run by a dude and his little four
Kids they weren't his but to him it was
Hey now if I could save my money I could get there alone
If I knew now what my dog knew then I could buy him a bone
Johnny he owes me cash but I
quick they were to take the life of Tamir
Rice, This life is so precious
How could be taken by those that we pay to protect us
Leaving that party as if
It starts with a yes y'all that call from Kid Creole
Shouted lethal from the lido deck, cassette steelo
Walking to my own beat, hawkish by my lonely
mentor comforted him as he came near
And they all decided to track bastard down
The course is now set on a righteous revenge
And joined by those
got a bone to pick with him!
Adieu
Thank you very much
Thanks a lot
Cheers
Ta
(Chatter)
Master of the house, quick to catch yer eye
Never was a passerby to pass him by
Servant to the poor, butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher,
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