Текстове на песни: Twiztid. The Green Book. Serial Killa.
(Jamie Madrox)
What is it about a serial killa that attracts you?
And makes this music that you can sharpen an axe to
Taking you back through a hallway to a black room
No walls or ceilings, just doorways to pass through
You choose, chainsaws are always nice
But razorblades and knives are way more precise
When it comes to cutting, this shit here is an art
And we finish what we start, that's what separates us apart
From other motherfuckers, not saying no names
But them other motherfuckers (Ain't family)
And they say I'm sick, too sick
Well how sick do you get?
When you see a chest without a butcher knife buried in it
Wait a minute, give me an axe
I wanna smash your ribcage in half
For every time you laughed on our behalf
Will you let me another chance to redefine?
The mind of a serial killa
(Chorus x2)
Serial killa
K I double L A
Fruit looped out of my mind like Godzilla (Kill)
Serial killa (Killa, Killa)
Torture and destroy (Killa, Killa)
Serial killa (Killa, Killa)
(Monoxide Child)
Could it be the blood? Maybe it's the blood you like
Or maybe it's my blatant disregard for life
Most people are afraid to deny it
But not me though
I keep it old school like a mink coat
Rusty blade, at least 12 inches
With the tipped cracked off from stabbing to many bitches
I'm digging ditches with a mental mind state
Just get up and get vicious within a dark place
Throw ya mercy on the head of my axe
And pray to God I don't split you in half like train tracks
I can't control it, so I just put it in my music
And hopefully other killas can use it
Don't confuse it with the same old game
Cause the shit that I kick could
What is it about a serial killa that attracts you?
And makes this music that you can sharpen an axe to
Taking you back through a hallway to a black room
No walls or ceilings, just doorways to pass through
You choose, chainsaws are always nice
But razorblades and knives are way more precise
When it comes to cutting, this shit here is an art
And we finish what we start, that's what separates us apart
From other motherfuckers, not saying no names
But them other motherfuckers (Ain't family)
And they say I'm sick, too sick
Well how sick do you get?
When you see a chest without a butcher knife buried in it
Wait a minute, give me an axe
I wanna smash your ribcage in half
For every time you laughed on our behalf
Will you let me another chance to redefine?
The mind of a serial killa
(Chorus x2)
Serial killa
K I double L A
Fruit looped out of my mind like Godzilla (Kill)
Serial killa (Killa, Killa)
Torture and destroy (Killa, Killa)
Serial killa (Killa, Killa)
(Monoxide Child)
Could it be the blood? Maybe it's the blood you like
Or maybe it's my blatant disregard for life
Most people are afraid to deny it
But not me though
I keep it old school like a mink coat
Rusty blade, at least 12 inches
With the tipped cracked off from stabbing to many bitches
I'm digging ditches with a mental mind state
Just get up and get vicious within a dark place
Throw ya mercy on the head of my axe
And pray to God I don't split you in half like train tracks
I can't control it, so I just put it in my music
And hopefully other killas can use it
Don't confuse it with the same old game
Cause the shit that I kick could
Twiztid
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