Rozz Dyliams - Paramedics lyrics

Step in the mine
You will find death and fantasy intertwined
Deep inside
Tales of the killer that walk in
The cornstalks late at night
Somethin' in the air say it just ain't right
And what you feel is not a test
Committing surgery on you busters when
The hatred make me stressed
Chopping you into confetti, with the machete
Into a bloody mess
Never miss target as if I was sparking
Hollow-point ballistics up into your head
Hit up your funeral just to
Laugh, as they lower you, cold and dead
You say you want wicked shit
But you don't really want
It when you see just how wicked it gets
There ain't no safety when Dylan gets pissed
I'm drowning you bitches in piss
After you get pistol whipped to shit


I'll have you wishing you could give
Your children one more kiss
I'll send your baby mama your
Severed dick in the
Mail but the rest of you coming up missing
You tied to a chair with the tank top and
Gasoline dumped all over you about to get lit
Enemies burn, wait your turn
You don't know hatred, watch and learn
I'ma let the missile sizzle 'til
You gristle in the urn
Come feel my deadly words
My fantasies consist of you and
Your homies faces crying
Slowly dragging on the curb

I'm 'bout to tear they ass up now
Teach these young boys a lesson now

All you see is death when
You look into my eyes rigor mortis creep in
Feel it stiffen up your spine eyes open
Fingers twitch and shake and then you die
Will your spirit drift away or get
Caught up in the divide?
Eyes opened wide on a dead person
Was the only thing that
Ever scared me as a child
But now it's old mind life is fine
Bucking these bitches down before
They waste my time but, I take my time to
Leave the paramedics baffled, asking why

Think you a killa, but you're just a minnow
Nothing to a killa like Dylan Ross
Jumping up on the scene
Looking meaner with every step I walk
Gangsta walking, let's get buck
Put your sign, throw a fork
Fuck the rapping
Lately I've been doing human butcher work
Evil man in delicatessen since the
The Castle of Depression
Moving on to bigger and better things
To keep my pockets stretching
Stretching just like spandex money bag
In and out the bank I keep on grinning
Keep on sinning
Knocking busters off and breaking
Down they women
Most these bitches think they something
Because they got female genitals
I don't give a fuck you
Idiot, bring me money bitch
You still ain't special
You don't get no special treatment
Treat these bitches just like rags
Act up hoe and deal with this 'cause
I don't deal with all of that
Haters talk shit until Dylan come up from the
Ashes and then they start falling back
Don't come to me or no studio, G
If you want your wifey and your daughter back
Strangled, fucked and hacked to pieces
Treating them just like a twamper sack
Family vacation
Destination meat hook where you'll all be at

All you see is death when
You look into my eyes rigor mortis creep in
Feel it stiffen up your spine eyes open
Fingers twitch and shake and then you die
Will your spirit drift away or get
Caught up in the divide?
Eyes opened wide on a dead person
Was the only thing that
Ever scared me as a child
But now it's old mind life is fine
Bucking these bitches down before
They waste my time but, I take my time to
Leave the paramedics baffled, asking why