Mr Hyde - On the Prowl lyrics
[Mr Hyde - On the Prowl lyrics]
I'm dressed to kill with the Glock
And 38 on my waist line
And murkin' you to me will
Translate to a great time
The guns that I hold demand
The money or motive
If I don't get it then you
Better bet the gun'll explode
They're loaded aiming for your face, son
And tearing shit up
Forget blastin' your gut make sure
Your casket is shut
The black sheep of the bunch
Turning the weak into lunch
Yo I'm hungry for your flesh like
I ain't eaten in months
I'll dig in with my ox and let
It drag on your tan line
Put heads in the box and stab
The handle with care signs
I'll be in disguise ready to
Stick you with knives
And leave your arms crossed
Like Forrest Whitaker's eyes
You sure you ready to die
By this machete of mine?
It takes just one stride for
Your head to divide
Fuckin' bludgeoned all night during
My games of death
The cops'll struggle to find where
Your remains are left
They're underneath the weeds rotting
In the gentle breeze
Chillin' with the flies, beetles
And the centipedes
A distant memory, your existence is gone
You're on your way to the gates
Where you'll be visiting God
I'm on the prowl
Huntin' for your head or your chest
Leavin' you dead like the rest I
Got a fetish for death i'm on the prowl son
So you can run and evade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It be the Children of Corn style
The killa with sword I'll
Unleash a plague of bees about
A billion a sworn pile
The desolate drugs supply the
Strength for my hunt
But when I catch you you're strung up
Hung by flesh of their tongues
Son, revenge is the script
You'll be eventually ripped
Tossed in pendulum pit's until you
Stench of the crypt
You'll be hunted for days by
Thugs with guns and grenades
Fuckin' punchin' your face until you're
Sunk in the grave
Blades are stuck in your brains, laced
And stuck in the lake
You should've ducked when I sprayed
Son you're a fuckin' disgrace
Dirty lesions on your grill
Pus excretions will be spilled
Gore adhesives will be filled with blood
You leaked before you're killed
My sinister inside drugged with
Hundreds of pills
It's Two Minutes to Midnight
Better run to the hills
I'm leavin' you deceased
Burning bullets get released
Earth is sure to hear you screech
Like guitars of Judas Priest
Next step you're check mated
Your vest is invaded
By hollow tip shells your chest is separated
You're caught up in a mess
Of tortured long death
On the deck, more or less
A corpse with torn flesh
I'm on the prowl
Huntin' for your head or your chest
Leavin' you dead like the rest I
Got a fetish for death i'm on the prowl son
So you can run and evade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
I'm on the prowl
Huntin' for your head or your chest
Leavin' you dead like the rest I
Got a fetish for death i'm on the prowl son
So you can run and evade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
And 38 on my waist line
And murkin' you to me will
Translate to a great time
The guns that I hold demand
The money or motive
If I don't get it then you
Better bet the gun'll explode
They're loaded aiming for your face, son
And tearing shit up
Forget blastin' your gut make sure
Your casket is shut
The black sheep of the bunch
Turning the weak into lunch
Yo I'm hungry for your flesh like
I ain't eaten in months
I'll dig in with my ox and let
It drag on your tan line
Put heads in the box and stab
The handle with care signs
I'll be in disguise ready to
Stick you with knives
And leave your arms crossed
Like Forrest Whitaker's eyes
You sure you ready to die
By this machete of mine?
It takes just one stride for
Your head to divide
Fuckin' bludgeoned all night during
My games of death
The cops'll struggle to find where
Your remains are left
They're underneath the weeds rotting
In the gentle breeze
Chillin' with the flies, beetles
And the centipedes
A distant memory, your existence is gone
You're on your way to the gates
Where you'll be visiting God
I'm on the prowl
Huntin' for your head or your chest
Leavin' you dead like the rest I
Got a fetish for death i'm on the prowl son
So you can run and evade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It be the Children of Corn style
The killa with sword I'll
Unleash a plague of bees about
A billion a sworn pile
The desolate drugs supply the
Strength for my hunt
But when I catch you you're strung up
Hung by flesh of their tongues
Son, revenge is the script
You'll be eventually ripped
Tossed in pendulum pit's until you
Stench of the crypt
You'll be hunted for days by
Thugs with guns and grenades
Fuckin' punchin' your face until you're
Sunk in the grave
Blades are stuck in your brains, laced
And stuck in the lake
You should've ducked when I sprayed
Son you're a fuckin' disgrace
Dirty lesions on your grill
Pus excretions will be spilled
Gore adhesives will be filled with blood
You leaked before you're killed
My sinister inside drugged with
Hundreds of pills
It's Two Minutes to Midnight
Better run to the hills
I'm leavin' you deceased
Burning bullets get released
Earth is sure to hear you screech
Like guitars of Judas Priest
Next step you're check mated
Your vest is invaded
By hollow tip shells your chest is separated
You're caught up in a mess
Of tortured long death
On the deck, more or less
A corpse with torn flesh
I'm on the prowl
Huntin' for your head or your chest
Leavin' you dead like the rest I
Got a fetish for death i'm on the prowl son
So you can run and evade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
I'm on the prowl
Huntin' for your head or your chest
Leavin' you dead like the rest I
Got a fetish for death i'm on the prowl son
So you can run and evade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade
It's all the same in the end you
Got a date with my blade