Prozak, UBI, Madchild - The Plague lyrics
[Prozak, UBI, Madchild - The Plague lyrics]
In it's absent minded state
The unconscious starts to
Yeah, yo an Illuminatic product
Consuming klonopins
Pass the point of vomiting
So please, pass me the Crown again
I'm an anomaly, classification oddity
These paranormal lyrics summon spirit's
Like the conjuring style is ominous
High velocity esophagus rap Nostradamus
The prophet of all apocalypse
Emerging from the dirt
Still underground but surfacing
I'm verbally disturbing
Leaving you nervous like a murder scene
In fear and lonely
Somebody pass me the Thorazine
Before I get to cutting you open
Like Michael- Halloween
I'm kinda psycho with a knife
Slice you to smithereens
Waking up in bloody clothes
Just hoping it was all a dream
Perhaps insanity orphan to the Manson family
Born to cause calamity
For the form of vocabulary
Decapitation of my enemies and adversaries
Lyrically, injecting Black Ink
Into their capillaries
Scratching k-K-Killers a-a-and m masochists
T T The Hitchcock of Hip Hop
Ill as Strange Musi-Music
U-B-I, suicide-cide-cide
Aye every time I snap it's invigorating
Cause every line I spit is
As cold as a refrigerator these new kids
Little babies in defibrillators
Vigorous deliverance without a
Picture pixelated passionately accurate
And I don't rap for pacifists
I make music for psychos
Killers and masochists
Every time I let out a verse
It's like a smashing fist
Kids losing their mind
Like it's a crashing disk
Define challengers, mind's a nine caliber
Future going back in time
Like Mayan calendars
Madchild's a lycan, terrible fang bearer
White boy
Spitting heavy metal like I'm Pantera
My mind's smoking, blown to main fuses
Misguided angels, down with Strange Music
These new kids, not actually solid
So Baxwar's back just to smash and demolish
Scratching k-K-Killers a-a-and m masochists
T T The Hitchcock of Hip Hop
Ill as Strange Musi-Music
U-B-I, suicide-cide-cide
Yeah this is that drama the lab built
Prozak, B axe clan collabing now that's real
U-B-I, celebrated I'm on but sad still
Cause, I have yet to find my
Tom Murillo and Brad Wilek
Pumping black milk like this
Fucking track will
Shut em- Shut em down, Onyx, Jazzy Jeff
Mad skills inner P&L
Ya'll blind and I'm reading braille
Boy, I'm serving well
Despite me, being a white geek
Your raw shady and half
Sheisty I'm double hyphy
You cry babies, I grind daily
You struggle nightly
I'm loving life so ladies love
Me I cuddle wifey yo, that's tough to watch
Until they lost one
They never know what they got
Not a Rob Schneider I just fuck a lot
Bumping and grinding like the grown-ups do
Oh you don't love this shit
Then suppose that I don't love you, you bitch
The unconscious starts to
Yeah, yo an Illuminatic product
Consuming klonopins
Pass the point of vomiting
So please, pass me the Crown again
I'm an anomaly, classification oddity
These paranormal lyrics summon spirit's
Like the conjuring style is ominous
High velocity esophagus rap Nostradamus
The prophet of all apocalypse
Emerging from the dirt
Still underground but surfacing
I'm verbally disturbing
Leaving you nervous like a murder scene
In fear and lonely
Somebody pass me the Thorazine
Before I get to cutting you open
Like Michael- Halloween
I'm kinda psycho with a knife
Slice you to smithereens
Waking up in bloody clothes
Just hoping it was all a dream
Perhaps insanity orphan to the Manson family
Born to cause calamity
For the form of vocabulary
Decapitation of my enemies and adversaries
Lyrically, injecting Black Ink
Into their capillaries
Scratching k-K-Killers a-a-and m masochists
T T The Hitchcock of Hip Hop
Ill as Strange Musi-Music
U-B-I, suicide-cide-cide
Aye every time I snap it's invigorating
Cause every line I spit is
As cold as a refrigerator these new kids
Little babies in defibrillators
Vigorous deliverance without a
Picture pixelated passionately accurate
And I don't rap for pacifists
I make music for psychos
Killers and masochists
Every time I let out a verse
It's like a smashing fist
Kids losing their mind
Like it's a crashing disk
Define challengers, mind's a nine caliber
Future going back in time
Like Mayan calendars
Madchild's a lycan, terrible fang bearer
White boy
Spitting heavy metal like I'm Pantera
My mind's smoking, blown to main fuses
Misguided angels, down with Strange Music
These new kids, not actually solid
So Baxwar's back just to smash and demolish
Scratching k-K-Killers a-a-and m masochists
T T The Hitchcock of Hip Hop
Ill as Strange Musi-Music
U-B-I, suicide-cide-cide
Yeah this is that drama the lab built
Prozak, B axe clan collabing now that's real
U-B-I, celebrated I'm on but sad still
Cause, I have yet to find my
Tom Murillo and Brad Wilek
Pumping black milk like this
Fucking track will
Shut em- Shut em down, Onyx, Jazzy Jeff
Mad skills inner P&L
Ya'll blind and I'm reading braille
Boy, I'm serving well
Despite me, being a white geek
Your raw shady and half
Sheisty I'm double hyphy
You cry babies, I grind daily
You struggle nightly
I'm loving life so ladies love
Me I cuddle wifey yo, that's tough to watch
Until they lost one
They never know what they got
Not a Rob Schneider I just fuck a lot
Bumping and grinding like the grown-ups do
Oh you don't love this shit
Then suppose that I don't love you, you bitch