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Текстове на песни: Twiztid. The Cryptic Collection 2. Murder Murder Murder.

(Monoxide Child)
First I plan my escape
Nothing on papes and leave the scene without a trace
I'm looking dead in her face
But she don't see me I'm unnoticed
I head straight to her bedroom window for better focus
Hokus pokus
I see the door's unlocked I let myself in
Head for her room with plans of murder and mayhem
There she go there that bitch lay
Living on this earth to my dismay
Time to pay
Palms are sweaty I'm bout to vomit
I grab the knife outta my belt and jab it in her stomach
Again and again and now she's screaming like I care
But I could give a fuck less
Before she dies I grab her by her blood-soaked hair
And tell her shit's gon' be alright on my end
I'm glad it happened this way
Back in my daughter's life again
Ain't it a shame that it came to this
Life goes on except for one less bitch
Ain't it a trip

Chorus (x2)
Murder murder murder murder
You never heard of redrum in reverse
Bodies in the hearse
Now your life's gone 'cause we wanted you to die
Time to kiss your ass goodbye
Don't ask why

(Jamie Maddrox)
It was Tuesday December 24th '97
Time on the clock 1:11
Thinking 'bout sending somebody to heaven
Or the crossroads
The fate of a soul lies in my hands I suppose
Now I'm wearing dark clothes
Park on the side street
Peeping out the scenery make sure nobody's seeing me
As I move to the trunk of the stolen car
Up to the back door with the crowbar

So far the plan's foolproof
Call from the phone booth
Got the message machine
Nobody's on the scene
Kick in the back door 1:34
Looking for the family dog Thor
Kick him in the jaw with the work boots
Knock a couple teeth loose
Smack him in the mouth with my empty deuce deuce
Then I smile
Break his neck and watch him piss on kitchen tile
Never liked him since the day he tried to play me foul
And tried to bite me stab a steak knife in his head
So much for that man's best friend
Now I'm all up in the place and
In the bedroom masturbatin
Cumming on the sheets and pillowcases
Fuck that bitch she's just a kunt
And her mother's nothing but a slut
Can't wait to seal her mouth shut
2:30 she returns home from work
Nice blouse tight shirt
Business attire for this hooker for hire
Throw the keys to the table said baby are u home
Didn't expect to see Bones
We're alone
And she's reaching for the telephone to call the police
Strangle with the cord now deceased
In the process of her suffocation
Finger fucked her for demonstration
Let her know I know her many faces
Now she's dead in the closet
Hanging out with all the winter clothes
In the struggle suffered a bloody nose
But I'm straight though
As I move to the bathroom to wash my hands
It's all part of the plan
Don't think you understand see

Chorus