Skeptics Apocalypse (Demo)
[Verse 1]:
Cut the lamb with seven horns, seven eyes and seven blessings
My chest covered with twenty pounds fully connected
The specialist, the American terrorist
Send you to major dispensers, so the population is shrinking
Bombs and moccasins, I'm 'bout it like Tim Ozmon
Cinematography, I paint pictures like Reaganomics
Some underground like Cheney bunkers and cures for Hodgkins
My goons fly to New York strictly to cop Rugers
Under the radar, we paranoid type but still ruthless
Constellations align when you get the right shooters
Grandpops, he died in his room wearin' my blue Pumas
We lost students Hashem losin' the boar Judas
Bury him in his favorite suit, at 50 grams
Forty love with the casket, I said goodbye and kissed his hand
My heart pumps strychnine, my hate vegetates
From Times Square to Tehran we detonate
[Chorus x2]:
My cult poppin' that Glock, my cult worship Satan
My cult loves being watched, my cult carve your face in
My cult huggin' the block, my cult devastation
My cult World War Gore, no time for elevation
[Interlude]:
Uh, I dealt with the boy that previously who wanted to kill me, uh the name of the demon that was inside the young man, was named Azrael, I later found out that Azrael was Lucifer's personal death angel, knowin' that, then I also found out that the same man has a cat on the [?], and what's his primary objective is to catch this [?], and kill him, from guarding him
What appeared to be highly secretive rooms committin' criminal acts, includin' murder. First, let's examine silk? style Satanists like Ricky Kasso, opular teenagers who learned that the message of Satanism is for sale, right in their neighborhood
- Hail Satan
- Hail Satan!
- We shall offer you a sacrifice [?], the destruction of human beings
[Verse 2]:
Celebratin' blood orgies and witch doctors
I don't rep for Scientologists, I ain't buyin' that product
Travolta flies you to Mars in his jet, you can ride for 80 mil'
I have foes with laser beams and shady grills
Bloods and Crips got cocaine for CIA
Colombian farmers got 85 cents a day
Sammy Davis fucked Jane up in LaVey's crib
I wish I had the footage when JMJ was fuckin' killed
Glenwood Projects thrash, to pall bearers
Skate like ball bearings
Cult kids we Porsche grabbers
Sports handlers, acid tabs, Willy Wonkas
You get your brain squashed out lookin' like chimichangas
Graphite powder, fingerprints depicted
Burglary victims, my projects murder for new prescriptions
[Chorus x2]
[Interlude]:
And uh, books? primarily extreme is the important part, and violent music, which is found here in the neighborhood record store under the category of "Heavy Metal music"
[Outro]:
I know that you don't love me
I don't care
There are many, girls like you, everywhere
So why don't you leave me alone
Come on
I don't care
Ohh no, no, no
Everywhere
Yes, there's girls just like you
I know, you don't want my hand? no more
But I don't care
Man, what's healthy about sellin' a knife to that, that?
[Three on a Meathook Outro]:
- You can't be around women, crazy things happen when you get involved, like what you did after your ma died, do you want me to send you up on your uncle's farm in Ohio like I did then?
- It ain't gonna happen this time, pa, she's a real nice girl, spent the whole day together, I'm alright now, I know I am
- That's what you said night before last, and I wound up buryin' four girls yesterday