Esham - Don't Blame Me lyrics

[Esham - Don't Blame Me lyrics]

Here I come
Better run I gotta sawed off shotgun
Pump that buck and you might catch a hot one
Call me a head hunter
Head's I've chopped off
Cemetery full from the bodies I dropped off
Motherfuckers hate me
Cause I'm singing Blasphemy
Die and go to hell and when
You get there ask for me
Come along for the ride, drive you to suicide
I'm the Unholy Esham, that's right
Get me a razor blade and I might jack a spade
Or jack jack my dick to a poor porno flick
Nasty motherfucker with the wicked mentallity
Thirteen ways is a small technicality
Cause, I got one, blow your fuckin head out
Pull your fuckin eyes out
Just to get the red out
If you be a nigga or a white boy honkey
I get funky, hip hop junkie
Serial killer, frosted flakes
Fucked up in the head wakin'
Up with the shakes
Those are the breaks, fuckin' up the fakes
Some shit I make you can't take
But don't blame me

Don't blame me don't blame me
Don't blame me
Don't blame me, the devil made me do it

Better reach your children
Cause I might burn em'
Teach em' and learn em' a motherfuckin lesson
Get my Smith & Wesson and
Blow your baby's head off
From watchin bullshit, turn the TV set off
Psycho, and I might go like Michael
Say some shit that you might not like so
Who's that god that you praise the lord to?
Buyin that ticket to the heavens
Can't afford to
Esham's back with the old jack swing
I don't pray or none or those things
Now we got niggas that's
Rappin bout god ya'll
Praise the lord to me the black eyeball
I ain't no joke and my words ain't fiction
If you think so you can suck my dick then
I don't like preachers, or prayers
But playas
Esham the Unholy wicked rhymesayer
Swing with the slayer, sing if you dare
But just like before I don't care
And don't blame me

Don't blame me
(we are searchers of the truth)
Don't blame me
(we are searchers of the truth)
Don't blame me
(we are searchers of the truth)
Don't blame me, the devil made me do it

Sick in the head, naughty like a dread
Pump that lead cause I'd rather be dead
Gimme what you got if you hip you get with me
I think my wrist is talkin to
You tellin you to slit me
Suicidalist and I'm unorthadox
Down with the black sox, whiskey on the rocks
You might catch me in a jail cell with a wig
I slaughtered me a pig, but you can't dig
The voices in my head, tellin me to waste ya
Pig that Bacon ham sandwich I can taste ya
Everybody lookin for a bible to touch
We shall overcome is a bit too much
But, you can't touch this
Religion is some hokus-pokus
Betcha seein god when you focus
But when the day comes and
You gotta run for shelter
Now you screamin Hellterskellter
Damn, you gotta turn off the TV
Or don't blame me

Don't blame me (don't start no shit now)
Don't blame me (don't start no shit now)
Don't blame me (don't start no shit now)
Don't balme me, the devil made me do it

Interpretation for


Add Interpretation

Add extended interpretation

If you know what the artist is talking about, can read between the lines, and know the history of the song, you can add interpretation to the lyrics. After checking by our editors, we will add it as the official interpretation of the song!

Latest added interpretations to lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Interpret