Brotha Lynch Hung, Trizz - MDK lyrics

Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry

And I got bodies in the trunk
Some of that cayenne pepper
Midnight just passed
Better keep your eyes on Lector
I'm hidin' in your closet with
A machete and trash bags
Spaghetti your insides
Get ready, I been died
Dead like a zombie
Backpack full of that crack that'll
Make you go hug mommy
Mo' drugs on me
I'm too nice
But don't make me get that butcher
Knife cause I do slice
Television say I'm a monster
They look at me like I'm Ed Gein
Guts in a box, red scene
And givin' bitches head drama
I'm way worse
I scrape the skin off your back
And make a human skin purse
Cuttin' this meat, Strange is invited to eat

Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry

Ey, Lynch, is that a blunt? Roll that
Lace it with the cocaine
A nigga need to smoke that
Forgot to take my Prozac
I'm tryin' to get my zone back
Shakin' and twitchin'
Ready to kill a nigga, oh snap!
I feel alone to myself, so depressing
Stressed out
Hectic, come close and get yo' neck slit
Reckless, rippin' shit out and give
It as the message
Guts on your doorstep
Wake ya up for breakfast
Send it out to Lynch for Dinner and a Movie
Had the cops confused when they investigate
Who, me?
Fuck jail, them niggas gon' have to shoot me
Goin' down fightin' on trial if they sue me
Fire up this doobie, spit a bloody loogie
Ripguts, look what drugs do to me
Somebody better save ya, sodomize and rape ya
Bitch, pick your face up and
Hand it to the strangla

Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry

Watchin' a bitch scream
Yeah, buddy, it wasn't as bloody as it seems
When it comes to killin'
I'm a motherfucking fiend
Catch me in the corner with your mother [?]
Bath salt nigga I pound the asphalt nigga
Wrap you up in duck tape
And put you in the bottom on the river
But this time I was sniffin' cocaine
Suicidal
12 gauge pointed at my head, Kurt Cobain
What you watchin' get him up, got him up
Shit you talking, shit him up, cut him up
I be havin' bad dreams and I want brains
I'm about to rape your daughter I'm insane
A midnight killer
Like it's a fucking video game
And I need my own show
Cause I be cooking the game up
I saute [?] wolfgang puck
I'm raping and fuckin' the beat
Nigga, game fuck
Cutting this meat and Trizz is invited to eat

Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry

I hope you got my plate ready
Cause it's time to eat
Clean all the blood off my face
And it's time to sleep
Move quick with the swift
I'm a fucking ghost
Treat bitches like my weed
Get choked in smoke
Fuck my ecstasy cause I
Done been played twice
Now I'm trying to cut up them
Bitches using my steak knife
Take the [?] sauce pour it on her ass
Light a match, set it off, fire up the gas
Have my new bitch join us for dinner
Tell Lynch to call his girl
Now we all up in her
Crip shit
Grip shit nigga this the
Sickness for instance
I kill bitches for attention
My idea of fun is fucking dead bodies
The devil's inside me
This motherfuckers' hidin'
Satan's taking over me
God what's gotten over me?
I hope my angels don't leave who else
Is going to roll with me?

Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry
Murder, death, kill, we hungry