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diabolic - hidden track lyrics
[intro – immortal technique:]
oh y’all mothaf-ckas thought it was over huh? but it’s not, you didn’t count on a fallen angel gettin’ back into the grace of god and coming after you. y’all n-ggas ain’t sh-t. your producers ain’t sh-t. your f-ckin’ a&r ain’t sh-t. i will f-ckin’ wipe my -ss with your demo deal. yo diabolic, take this mothaf-cka’s head off!!
[verse 1 – diabolic:]
go ahead and grip glocks, i’ll snap your trigger finger in six spots
you’ll have to lip lock <--(?), with hyperdermic needles to l!ck shots
i'll watch you topple flat, put away your writtens and holla back
can't freestyle, you're screwed off the top like bottle caps
beneath the surface, i'm over-heatin' your receiver circuits
by unleashin' deeper verses than priests speak in churches
but your preach is worthless, you worship, defeat the purpose
like president bush takin' bullets for the secret service
beyond what y'all fathom, i sh-t on cats and jaw tap 'em
show no comp-ssion like havin' a straight faced -rg-sm
tour jack 'em, have his half a ten b-tch suck my friend's d-ck
in the meantime, you can french kiss this clenched fist
diabolic, a one man brigade, spreadin' cancer plague
just f-ckin' a p-ssy's face, holdin' a hand grenade
so if i catch you bluffin', f-ggot, you're less than nothing
i just had to get that stress off my chest like breast reduction
[verse 2 - immortal technique:]
you mothaf-ckas are nothing, you cannot harm me
i'll resurrect every aborted baby, and start an army
storm the planet huntin' you down, cause i'm on a mission
to split your body into a billion one celled organisms
immortal technique'd destroy your religion, you stupid b-tch
you're faker than blue eyed crackers nailed to a crucifix
i'm 'bout to blow up like nasa challenger computer chips
-rs-nic language transmitted revolutionarily
i'm like time itself, i'm gonna k!ll you inevitably
chemically bomb you, f-ck using a chrome piece
i'm illmatic, you won't make it home like jerome's niece
i'll sever your head diagonally for thinkin' of dissin' me
and then use your dead body to write my name in calligraphy
this puppet democracy, brainwashed your psychology
so you're nothing like diversity, without equality
and your crew if full of more f-ggots than greek mythology
using numerology to count the people i sent to heaven
produces more digits than twenty-two, divided by seven
you like kevin sp-cey, your style is usually suspect
you never k!lled a cop, you not a mothaf-ckin' thug yet
your mind is empty and sp-cious, like the part of the brain
that appreciates culture in a racist
face it, you too basic, you never gonna make it
like children walkin' thru antarctica b-tt-naked
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