120% Darkside Justice
Fuck the machine
I'm raging against the broke life
I love the cream
My sayings affect the coke price
My demons are devils to the
Things that I don't like
Can I detach myself from 'em
I know it's so trife
Murder assault, wild out of control type
Worshiping at the altar of Ralph
Like a Lo Life
Dress correct, heavy metal emperor roll tight
I'm obsessed with death
Helter Skelter like Sean Price
Know the tech kid, the sound of thunder
No respectable Boba Fett-like bounty hunter
No remorse
Mega force records seek and destroy
We kill em all, zip up the bag
Bring em to the morgue
Bring him to the coroner table then cut
Him up and look inside of him
What the fuck would they think
If someone lied to them?
Sold em the dead dreams
Listening to philosophers
Going against me? Victory is impossible!
Blood money and death - Darkside Justice
Trust nothing except - Darkside Justice
Fuck love and respect - Darkside Justice
One-twenty percent - Darkside Justice
My rap's scary, it escaped from my Blackberry
Your rap stays trapped
It's fake and imaginary
My rap full of gats and bad vocabulary
My rap has drug tracks and blood capillaries
It's all cemetery, and about mortuaries
I ain't saying anything out of the ordinary
Not unusual, it's the cult itinerary
Attending funerals with a dull contemporary
Weapons put you in
Blessings whenever necessary
Gun straightened paper better
Than a secretary
With just one shot turn a jock into a Jerry
The Glocks that we carry
Turn The Rock into a fairy
Murder for no reason other than monetary
The devil made me do it, it's involuntary
I keep clips and newspaper obituaries
Behind a bookcase with a trick dictionary
Blood money and death - Darkside Justice
Trust nothing except - Darkside Justice
Fuck love and respect - Darkside Justice
One-twenty percent - Darkside Justice
It's a perfect murder scene
A perfect murder by the perfect person
Brujeria verse perfectly cursing a virgin
What's the faculty of energy perfect exertion
Call me majesty
My words are conversed in a serpent
Pussy boy left the war
They call it desertion
I am dirty, I am opposite in every detergent
If it isn't a Grey Goose
Then it's certainly Bourbon
I write my rhyme in Beirut
With a burgundy turban
Hardbody rap, punch you in the chatterbox
I would never walk the hallways
Unless I had a ox
That's the reason why they put
Me in padded box
I would've never been a problem
If I had my pops
I pull a motherfucker's card
Like a magic shop
Mossberg means spin several
Metal savage shots
The heater hit the fucking flesh
Like the cattle prod
My physical body's the vehicle
For wrath of God
Blood money and death - Darkside Justice
Trust nothing except - Darkside Justice
Fuck love and respect - Darkside Justice
One-twenty percent - Darkside Justice