Diabolic - S.A.R.S (Hold Ya Tongue) lyrics
[Diabolic - S.A.R.S Hold Ya Tongue lyrics]
Im the cross-bred genetically
Engineered version of
Charles Manson's DNA, and 2Pac's murderer
I been real
So if i feel your fake then your dead
There'll be hell to pay
Like you owed Satan some bread
I be, sprayin some lead
Airin you out on some foul shit
Ill rock your jaw
Like i wear your mouth as an outfit
I been bout it bout it
Since i was breast fed
Sick as Eazy-E teachin sex ed
On his death bed
Mad at the world, so i live by the gun
Like smith and wesson where my neighbours
On the strip i was from
I open doors then incite riots and go to war
Still broke and poor with
Million dollar vocal cords
Ill rape your speakers
Rob you and take your sneakers
While i raise and slit a
Label leaders facial features
Then take a breather
Sit back while chips stack, drink a six pack
As i think about why i did that
(don't compare me to you, mawfucka move back
You ain't there)
I do what every artist does
It's my heart and blood
But i feel like I'd have to die
Before i start a buzz so I don't show love
I just hate and smoke bud
Stickin up my gun like
Fingerprints with no gloves
We could throw slugs and i could catch a body
Or fight in the club
Im Tyler Durden at the after party
Im criminal surrounded by five cop cars
On the streets of Toronto, screaming:
"I've got SARS! " this blocks ours
But cops crucify the streets
So i love police brutality
When i brutalize police
Do or die's what i do for my beliefs
Till im in a pine box wearin'
A suit and tie to sleep
Polluted by deceit and all
These snakes schemin
So i see my worst nightmares
While im day dreamin
My careers fucked the way my manager left it
So im'a put him on blast
His names Travis Mc Vetrin
(I had enough of you man
Im about to fuck up your plan)
Im the soldier hating this pop-culture
Till i got chips like the teeth
On my Nas poster
Cop toasters, cops watch from a block over
Glock holstered while i sell
Raw to stock brokers i'm not sober
I stay drunk watching dimes
And fill em with more shots
Than big and 2Pac combined drinkin moonshine
Runnin off at the mouth
Like im the guy fathers
Warn their daughters about
A scumbag who just let the shottie spark
Till im surrounded by cops like
Em with his body guards
Pigs say im a lowlife and i think i like it
Cuz i belong in a pen
Like the ink i write with im Doc Kevorkian
While cops escort me in
Leavin fire on the street
Like micheal j fox ' delorian so fuck rap
I can see past it
Ill cop a hundred pack just to
Supply ja rules E habit
Engineered version of
Charles Manson's DNA, and 2Pac's murderer
I been real
So if i feel your fake then your dead
There'll be hell to pay
Like you owed Satan some bread
I be, sprayin some lead
Airin you out on some foul shit
Ill rock your jaw
Like i wear your mouth as an outfit
I been bout it bout it
Since i was breast fed
Sick as Eazy-E teachin sex ed
On his death bed
Mad at the world, so i live by the gun
Like smith and wesson where my neighbours
On the strip i was from
I open doors then incite riots and go to war
Still broke and poor with
Million dollar vocal cords
Ill rape your speakers
Rob you and take your sneakers
While i raise and slit a
Label leaders facial features
Then take a breather
Sit back while chips stack, drink a six pack
As i think about why i did that
(don't compare me to you, mawfucka move back
You ain't there)
I do what every artist does
It's my heart and blood
But i feel like I'd have to die
Before i start a buzz so I don't show love
I just hate and smoke bud
Stickin up my gun like
Fingerprints with no gloves
We could throw slugs and i could catch a body
Or fight in the club
Im Tyler Durden at the after party
Im criminal surrounded by five cop cars
On the streets of Toronto, screaming:
"I've got SARS! " this blocks ours
But cops crucify the streets
So i love police brutality
When i brutalize police
Do or die's what i do for my beliefs
Till im in a pine box wearin'
A suit and tie to sleep
Polluted by deceit and all
These snakes schemin
So i see my worst nightmares
While im day dreamin
My careers fucked the way my manager left it
So im'a put him on blast
His names Travis Mc Vetrin
(I had enough of you man
Im about to fuck up your plan)
Im the soldier hating this pop-culture
Till i got chips like the teeth
On my Nas poster
Cop toasters, cops watch from a block over
Glock holstered while i sell
Raw to stock brokers i'm not sober
I stay drunk watching dimes
And fill em with more shots
Than big and 2Pac combined drinkin moonshine
Runnin off at the mouth
Like im the guy fathers
Warn their daughters about
A scumbag who just let the shottie spark
Till im surrounded by cops like
Em with his body guards
Pigs say im a lowlife and i think i like it
Cuz i belong in a pen
Like the ink i write with im Doc Kevorkian
While cops escort me in
Leavin fire on the street
Like micheal j fox ' delorian so fuck rap
I can see past it
Ill cop a hundred pack just to
Supply ja rules E habit