Louis Logic - Visceral Literal lyrics

[Louis Logic - Visceral Literal lyrics]

You son of a bitch grimey fuck
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
Smart talkin' bitch
Rap-pseudo intellectual chit chat
You don't have to?wear a thought
Or peer at all?
When I heave a big axe at the
Back of your neck and head
And tear it off, soft, silly putty bullshit
I live to strip the flesh
From off your bones, holmes
Homegrown slasher flick
Spill the blood of pacifists
Kill your cousin and your kids, violent
Nihilist
Stab your weak ass DJ wit' a stylus
Right up in his eyelids
Never, never, ever sever ties
Unless it's severing the spine from the
Nerve-endings of a clever guy
Runnin' from a cop car


Clothes soaked in the blood of pop stars
Murdering is not hard! It's only
Hard not to murder!
Cause women just look sexier
When they're chopped to burger
Sliced down to size 'til
It resembles anorexia
What chick wouldn't want a naked
Killer standin' next to her?
I guess it's just, guess
It's just, probably it's, obvious
My hobby is
Slayings of the sloppiest degree!
I'm an ominous disease or a gift from God
Eating people is a job
Dining on a human shish kebab
With a slob's mannerisms
I'm still wearin' lunch
From yesterday on my shirt
At my Sunday mornin' brunch
Old folks havin' aneurysms, when I hunt
On the news, women found with blunt
Objects jammed up in their cunt
We interrupt this broadcast for
A special newsflash
Today I stuck a shotgun up this broad's ass
(blam)
Back to you Tom, bad news, reporting live
Following a serpentine blood trail
At the murder scene
Back to your regular program
Of bludgeonin' yuppies with their
Cellular phone then carvin' a grown man
Down to the shape of a child
Now find the outline and save it a while
I got a sentiment for dismemberment
And enjoy scrawling letters in
Blood with poor penmanship
I'm like dismember, disembowel, disavow
Show up at the precinct
And ask is this allowed
With a gouge in my forehead
Shaped like a crescent moon and star
And a shirt that says "I
Kill for Allahu Akbar"
So I'm only doin' God's work
Waitin' for some unaware
Under aged chicks outside a concert
The monster, who strikes like clockwork
Guerrilla, serial killer
Fuckin' stiff chicks until my cock hurts
I'm a terrorist, heavenless, specialist
Pessimist ever since my dog started
Sendin' mixed messages
Chicks with big breastsesses
Started turnin' up dead
Found on an altar with altered measurements
Effortless precision, sharp knife management
Executed by the champion
Of killin' transients

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