Q Strange - Murderkill lyrics
[Q Strange - Murderkill lyrics]
Brand New For 2003 that Murderous Shit
Murda Murda Murda, Kill Kill Kill
I'm Q-Strange, they say I'm quite ill
I'm a basket case
I'm sure your path is demented
All this anger inside needs to be vented
Hey, yo don't be offended
When I slashin' ya face
Im doin' you a favor punk you
Off to a better place
A nutcase wit a taste for torture
A bloody butcher knife is in
My hand ready to slaughter
I oughta get treatment for my sick mind
I saw my therapist Dr doom
And he said I'm fine
But I'm about to watch you suffer kid
Strap you in a chair and
Put toothpicks in ya eyelids
Prying them open till you
Can't sleep for weeks
In ya own fecal matter, is all you can eat
And then for a treat, I might slice ya neck
Or maybe stab ya chest you'll
Be beggin' for death yes
When I write lyrics I don't need
A pen or a pad
I just grab a knife and start to stab
And on my wall in drippin'
Blood I write my rhymes
I got eyeballs hangin' on my
Porch like wind chimes
And if you think that's sick
Just open my fridge
I got two heads, a torso, and a couple limbs
In my trash bin I fill to the rims
With bloody guts, what the fck
Life is pretty grim
Severed heads scattered all over my
Lawn like a cabbage patch i grab a ax
I kick ya nuts like a hackey sack
And that's a fact
I got the innovation that you lack
A wacky jack in a crappy act
Singin' happy raps but if it's sinister then
That's a different story
Fck keep it real man
I'd rather keep it real gory
Don't try to understand the sick talk
I'm runnin' down the street with
Dead babies on a pitchfork
A bitch talk I don't hesitate to stab her
Then I'll grab her
Put her in the trunk of an Impala
Then I take her out, I drag her in the house
The funs about to begin I take my tools out
Now, I put the knife inside her
Gently drag it down her tummy
Surprise surprise this ones
An expecting mommy
I remove the fetus and I put it in a jar
Pull out some vital organ like
The spleen and a heart
I rap it up and put it in a bag so I can take
It to work tomorrow eat it on my lunch break
This is great and the fun is just startin'
I rap intestines
All around my apartment like garland
Look down at the hollow corpse a pretty sight
Kiss her on the cheek now
It's time to say goodnight
Now who's that sleepin' in my bed
It's a dead body wit no head
Skin is turning gray, starting to decay
Smellin' really bad, but I like it that way
Get under the covers, hug her cuz I love her
First thing in the morning I
Guess I'll dispose of her
Click on the TV before I go to sleep
The news says two kids have
Been missing for weeks
If they only knew one was
Dead floating down the creek
And the other one is in my
Torture chamber as we speak
I'm unique and I'm sick abstract in
The thoughts in my head
I'm crazy I wanna see you dead, wanna
Murda Murda Murda, Kill Kill Kill
I'm Q-Strange, they say I'm quite ill
I'm a basket case
I'm sure your path is demented
All this anger inside needs to be vented
Hey, yo don't be offended
When I slashin' ya face
Im doin' you a favor punk you
Off to a better place
A nutcase wit a taste for torture
A bloody butcher knife is in
My hand ready to slaughter
I oughta get treatment for my sick mind
I saw my therapist Dr doom
And he said I'm fine
But I'm about to watch you suffer kid
Strap you in a chair and
Put toothpicks in ya eyelids
Prying them open till you
Can't sleep for weeks
In ya own fecal matter, is all you can eat
And then for a treat, I might slice ya neck
Or maybe stab ya chest you'll
Be beggin' for death yes
When I write lyrics I don't need
A pen or a pad
I just grab a knife and start to stab
And on my wall in drippin'
Blood I write my rhymes
I got eyeballs hangin' on my
Porch like wind chimes
And if you think that's sick
Just open my fridge
I got two heads, a torso, and a couple limbs
In my trash bin I fill to the rims
With bloody guts, what the fck
Life is pretty grim
Severed heads scattered all over my
Lawn like a cabbage patch i grab a ax
I kick ya nuts like a hackey sack
And that's a fact
I got the innovation that you lack
A wacky jack in a crappy act
Singin' happy raps but if it's sinister then
That's a different story
Fck keep it real man
I'd rather keep it real gory
Don't try to understand the sick talk
I'm runnin' down the street with
Dead babies on a pitchfork
A bitch talk I don't hesitate to stab her
Then I'll grab her
Put her in the trunk of an Impala
Then I take her out, I drag her in the house
The funs about to begin I take my tools out
Now, I put the knife inside her
Gently drag it down her tummy
Surprise surprise this ones
An expecting mommy
I remove the fetus and I put it in a jar
Pull out some vital organ like
The spleen and a heart
I rap it up and put it in a bag so I can take
It to work tomorrow eat it on my lunch break
This is great and the fun is just startin'
I rap intestines
All around my apartment like garland
Look down at the hollow corpse a pretty sight
Kiss her on the cheek now
It's time to say goodnight
Now who's that sleepin' in my bed
It's a dead body wit no head
Skin is turning gray, starting to decay
Smellin' really bad, but I like it that way
Get under the covers, hug her cuz I love her
First thing in the morning I
Guess I'll dispose of her
Click on the TV before I go to sleep
The news says two kids have
Been missing for weeks
If they only knew one was
Dead floating down the creek
And the other one is in my
Torture chamber as we speak
I'm unique and I'm sick abstract in
The thoughts in my head
I'm crazy I wanna see you dead, wanna