Kill him again!
Try to identufy the man in front of ya
But it ain't the role the gear or the money the
swift intellectionist with pleny ya
bite if it's dark I'll spark every one of ya
I throw a mic in the crowd it's a question
I got the answer..it includes directions:
"Go manufacture a mask show me after
a glass of a master that has to make musical massacre..."
Attack your wack 'till it's handicapped,
you'll never hold the mic again, try to hand it back,
cuz every rapper that comes, I cut off his thumbs,
put a record to his neck, if he swallows it hums!
Slice from ear to ear-so 'till can hear better,
Before he bleed to death, here, hear every letter!
and you can see quick and thick the blood can get
if you try to change the style or the subject;
as I get deep in the rhyme I'm becomin' a
emcee murderer...before I'm done, I'm a
prepare the chamber, the torture's comin' up,
Trip through the mind, at the end you'll find it's
the punisher....
Kill 'em again!
I hold the mic as hostage, emcees are ransome,
rhymes'll punish 'em cuz they don't undertsand 'em,
I heat up his brain, then explain then I hand him
a redhot microphone...that's how I planned 'em,
rhymes call information(?), unite midnught(?),
like a platoon putting bullet wounds in the mic,
if ya curse me, it ain't no mercy,
give him a autopsy, killed by a verse of me,
I took a kid and cut off his eyelid,
kill him slow so he could see what I did,
and if he don't understand what I said,
I'm pushing his eyeballs way to the back of his head
so he can see what he's getting into,
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