Lyrics:
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Music and Lyrics by Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King
Black Magic from the Slayer album Show No Mercy
in
Flip and dip like scrimps and scampi
Switch my language up like a black
Kid raised by a Spanish nanny
You think you got big cahunas
Well I got bad
Even if you blow up I'll never allow
You in my life again i'll write that in ink
Bold with a black pen with a black pen
Black pen! Ever been blocked by
of on the concrete
Look, who would we be if we ain't move out the hood?
Would we be able to be like a black man should?
We would be killed by the cops or getting shot
the dominant
Your honor this, cut your mic, I'm in control of all of this
Welcome to the 2nd album where we find ourselves surrounded
By some people venomous
Yo I get more props than a movie studio
My rhymes are gore soaked like a film by Lucio
I'll fuck a bitch with an empty gun then shoot her with her
Eight inches deep the lore
I know of black metal
I learned it all in one single vid
Seven songs into the album
Reviewed by none
I sat through it all
the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got a problem
When I see
in the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom (yeah)
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got
decay
But I still hope that my album will get a few plays
I'll get by, taking this day by day
But if I die, just know you'll be okay
All I've ever done
Yeah
My mind state feel like the crime in the summertime
Higher than average
Lot of cabbage
Thank God I never abide by the established
performed two songs and most hate it
I'm despised by the heavens, my tombstone is post-dated
I told flex he had to wait to get my album, but I guess he
and kicking
I'm the A to the G-I followed by the A-N-T rolling with the Show be -I
Black boots, black hat, slick like a black cat
Flip like a fat
integrity (In that belt called creativity)
But it's not a black corpse, snuffed by a cold world, I keep warm
By burning dead bodies smelling the beats
just a new boy
Name an artist who can sing and rap like me, boy
Artist and producer, man, I do this by myself, boy
All these fake rappers, they be decoys
a backbone
Little by little I'm only buying black owned
I'm talking about the motherland
Got another plan
We gon do the running man
Take our people back home
who gives a shit
I just don’t want this life to happen to me like some peers I used to kick it wit
Just a black man abiding by the law
At his choosing,
niggaz and by the way all my niggaz move boulders
Like Barney rubble any trouble free muffle the gat
I'm young and black with a chip on my shoulder
Its
And I can go show off my rocket powered solid gold Benz
I tell ya life is no much nicer with invisible friends
"Record an all-banjo Falco tribute album
they play my shit first
On the Billboard and last on the countdown, like contact on that show
So what's up black, yo, how that sound?
If you down then
tie
N.Y. national league of big guys with stolen 5's
Albums cloud him, phantom of the opera style
With loud phones, system, 100 thousand watts in em
the Queen looks pretty in pink
These other MC’s are skint
I’m looking at black BM limousine tint
'Cause I don’t want nobody to see me
Unless I’m on TV
Yo, you
My nigga Ja sold more records than an o.g. (o.g.)
Tah flyin by in the Lac truck like a o.g.(o.g.)
For Gotti I'd body a nigga quicker than a o.g.
Black
But your album sound like you give
Your nuts for a plaque
You don't ride for the facts like um
Say Scarface
You don't know what you feel, y'all too
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