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dzk - torcher كلمات الأغنية

it’s futile for you to do battle with a mutant who chews gravel
and spews jagged matter back at dudes asking to grapple
i’m used to abusive battering, and by ” used to abusive battering”
i actually mean, my boot’s used to moving through -sses, when

you, b-st-rds attempt to pen raps attackin a cat of my stature
and it’s sad to hafta blast a backpacker so bad that
they hafta attach flaps of skin grafting and plastic limbs
after our match, when i win, just to patch him back again

what matters is, i’ve mastered every path of my craft so accurate
every track i spit, rapidly adds to the status i have as ” sick”
which would be the sh-t, except when i rap a verse, nervous kids
are grabbing a gas mask, and missing the first half of my sh-t

i flatten average men with a pad and pen, i’ll fashion a diss
so immaculate i hafta rap it with a cackle and grin
i’m past the status of devils advocate, attracted to sin
the baddest, you can’t even begin imagine the madness within

[hook]:

this is your warning, i’m a force to be reckoned with
my tongue’s a torch that scorches when the record spins
f-ck authority, i’d torture the prescedent
it’s surely evident i’m as morbid as war veterans

i spit that horror-core sh-t and deliver rhetoric, so s-d-stic
christians switch directions, when i’m headed in the direction
they’re headed in, and i’m better than any compet-tor,
ready to sever the head of a meddler, deadly as ever, the sh-t is inevitable

i sip liquor, get p-ssed, disfigure a chick’s pretty face with
a quick flip of my wrist, scr-ping razors h-t, breakin the skin
and then, i’m lickin the places i slit, to taste what i did
i’m basically sayin, ” mentally insane” is too tame for what i’ve been

since the eighty’s and i’m saying i’m way crazier since then
i stay in a state of in-tense, meditative hate and stay bent
from medication meant to replace sedation with concentration and
make you creative and unafraid to display it in the same sense

so i’m taping my prey’s faces and takin em to a bas-m-nt in
a vacant wasteland to partic-p-te in strange operations
like making em trade veins with an aids patient and then i’m unchaining em
and lettin em escape so i can chase em and video tape the mayhem

i’m playin with prayin victims laying naked, restricted with thick,
fitted restraints, i’m lifting, painfully bending tense ligament
tissue, which extends when i inch the six sensitive suspension
instruments in sixty demented and sequentially different increments

[hook]

i’m disenchanted with music industry management so i’m plannin
to ram a van fulla flammable cans through every d-mn window i can
and park in the lobby of every labels office and demand coffee
from every a& r, i cross, cuz that’s what their f-ckin job should be

and if they don’t comply with it, i’m flippin my lit cigarette skyward
and we can all fry in a pile, cuz i’m flying higher than richard pryor
and i’m dying to see if your cheap attire can defy the heat from my lighter
when i try to light a piece of it on fire, you ready die, sir?

whoever’s in charge of these super-stars, gets a boot to the dome
for signing rhymers who couldn’t find a useful line on the road
it’s time for new talent to rise and re-define how to flow
and challenge those in power, so now it’s time go for the throat

and then it’s game over for the same jokers, in the range rovers
focus, your reigns over, dope chains is taken and broken,
ya bones poking, ya brains smokin, it’s so hopeless, i’m waiting to open
your show, so i go can loco and spray ya clothes with a flame thrower

- dzk

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