Poetry in the Streets - Necro, Ill Bill

Peep the killer shit

Death murder rap shit

Bitch

Check it

The press, runs to tape record the bloody mess

Documentations so the human race can study death

They’ll reach in through your TV speaker

They’ll feature a creature

That will beat ya to death, if he can meet ya

You’re executed when you’re electrocuted

Who’s responsible for a homeless man that’s dead

And smells putrid

We murdered your natural flesh after bein thrown in a river

You’ll be frozen forever into a statue of death

A grasshopper in the lab dead

Stabbed in the head

Knives are like the hands of a crab

Jabbin your flab till you abdomen bleeds

Throw you off a building

Killin' off your children

Drillin' holes in your corpse till your spillin' the colour vermillion

We’ll split your brains

I’ll slit your veins

The impact of a bat cracked across your back

Is like gettin' hit by a train

I’ll stick a fang in your blood bank

Then strangle

My shank’ll mangle you like the triangled

Teeth of a bengal

I think my shit’s too brutal for most

I might be the only one capable of digesting the dose

You won’t survive a screw driver driven inside your throat

Choke on blood and saliva another conniver croaks

It’s poetry in the streets of the big apple

And a vitality found in few other places

But look beneath the surface of the city

And you shall uncover a steamin sesspool of human emotion

Gone sour, a planet, where nightmares

That become reality

Witness the brutality

Its poetry in the streets of the big apple

You get tackled

And grappled to the floor, white slaved up and shackled

I spit on your grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your face

Grind you into slop meat and serve you to your friends

We bringin' bad taste

Another brutal shootin' rampage

Turnin humans to ashtrays

Groupies to crack slaves

And boobies that lactate

Squirtin' mad milk, I never have guilt

I have krills, I’ll have you fags killed

In front of your mom and dads grill

Splatter both of them

With pieces of your explodin' head

Brain fragments are stainin' clothing red

I make you love the pain, it hurts

We make music for drug addicts, pieces of shit, that love the dirt

Its psychological

I’m like havin' a rifle shot at you

We not the type that smile at you

We the type that body you

Slit your throat with the broken bottle

Pieces of jagged glass stabbin' you through your fuckin eyeballs

Have you swallowin cyanide screamin' «Die whores!»

Kill your physical first, next your minds lost

Leave you in the funeral home you make a fine corpse

Got you splattered across the walls with my nine tongues

Murder you execution style like a crime boss

Travel through time and terminate you like a cyborg

My mentality’s grindcore