Wifisfuneral - PlayStation 2 lyrics
[Wifisfuneral - PlayStation 2 lyrics]
Call the coroner, it's the wettest form
In the faces I'm slashin'
You see the Grim Reaper in his finest passion
10 Glocks pop in that drop top
Candy cover paint
The return of Max Payne with no weapons drawn
30s with the hollow tips
Red icy bitch, yeah she with the shit's
I'm in the darkness, creeping slowly
Demons speaking, souls departed
Blunts smoked in the bathroom
Paint dripping in the faucet
Blood found in my arm where I stab
Drug addicts in the casket
Medusa's Stone for a reaction
I got my, 9 millimeter cocked in my coffin
Eyes red, dope burning, I get faded often
Switchblade full of blood, late night slice
Throats in the tub
Counting bodies like I'm counting Benjis
I'm all alone, right where you left me
In that dark room, that taste of blood
That faded rush, it feels so new
My soul speaks, I'll fade with time
I'll paint the cameras, I'll blow my mind
I'll stab the reverend
I'll kill the preacher
Them false lies, no one can keep them
Percs and them blood samples got you speaking
Owen Hart was uh, set to make an
Entrance from the ceiling, and uh
He fell from the ceiling i have-I have the
Unfortunate responsibility to let
Everyone know that
Owen Hart has died owen Hart has tragically
Died from that accident here tonight
I'll call the plug when I need it
I'll call the plug when I'm fiending
Reflection of pain at it's finest
I'm slowly dying with no hesitation
Never the time to say goodbye
Then I'll roll through like Razor Ramon
Gold chains swinging leave the bad guy alone
I'm toting pistols with Al Capone
Sky falls, cold weather
Death to all, pour a 4 in that 24
I'm swinging low, straight 32s
With that Dutch roller
Blunt ash on my undergarments
I'll walk on water
That precious such, see I would bother
Owen Hart, them bodies fallin'
In the faces I'm slashin'
You see the Grim Reaper in his finest passion
10 Glocks pop in that drop top
Candy cover paint
The return of Max Payne with no weapons drawn
30s with the hollow tips
Red icy bitch, yeah she with the shit's
I'm in the darkness, creeping slowly
Demons speaking, souls departed
Blunts smoked in the bathroom
Paint dripping in the faucet
Blood found in my arm where I stab
Drug addicts in the casket
Medusa's Stone for a reaction
I got my, 9 millimeter cocked in my coffin
Eyes red, dope burning, I get faded often
Switchblade full of blood, late night slice
Throats in the tub
Counting bodies like I'm counting Benjis
I'm all alone, right where you left me
In that dark room, that taste of blood
That faded rush, it feels so new
My soul speaks, I'll fade with time
I'll paint the cameras, I'll blow my mind
I'll stab the reverend
I'll kill the preacher
Them false lies, no one can keep them
Percs and them blood samples got you speaking
Owen Hart was uh, set to make an
Entrance from the ceiling, and uh
He fell from the ceiling i have-I have the
Unfortunate responsibility to let
Everyone know that
Owen Hart has died owen Hart has tragically
Died from that accident here tonight
I'll call the plug when I need it
I'll call the plug when I'm fiending
Reflection of pain at it's finest
I'm slowly dying with no hesitation
Never the time to say goodbye
Then I'll roll through like Razor Ramon
Gold chains swinging leave the bad guy alone
I'm toting pistols with Al Capone
Sky falls, cold weather
Death to all, pour a 4 in that 24
I'm swinging low, straight 32s
With that Dutch roller
Blunt ash on my undergarments
I'll walk on water
That precious such, see I would bother
Owen Hart, them bodies fallin'