myles malice – patrick bateman كلمات اغاني
dont f-ck up the beat, yah, hit a m-th- f-cka with the heat, yah
cut em with a knife life line deplete, imma end this sh-t control, alt, delete
while most ya’ll write your rhymes for the paper, i set fire to currency
i could give a f-ck about fame, really fed up with the game, hence why ya ain’t heard of me
i fly under the radar, k!llin with a saber, like vadar, wanna hop up on my tools named maynard
ya betta think twice, your blowin up my g-ydar
looks like i’ll have ta rip your hair out, fashion up a wig, an wear it while i cut your throat and gut ya like a pig, b-tch
six feet deep in a ditch, you dig, you dont really wanna f-ck with a d-ck this big
i’m runnin right up in your houses, fist up in spouses, fill em up, light that cig
and wait, for the day, you step up to my f-ckin face, ya little b-tch
really wish you’d wipe that smile off, ya won’t find it funny when the blade meets wrist
i k!ll it, get it? got it, good, gut a m-th- f-cka chop it up like wood
leave a puddle of blood where the mic once stood, compete with a nuttbag? wish you could
d-mn, black and white’s straight runnin this sh-t through the day in night
who’s puttin up a fight? point em out, lemme grab my knife, imma spit up on the mic and imma take his life
hook
i’m a pretty sick guy (4x) i’m attackin rappers with p-ssion, slash and stab em, cut em up but why? i’m a pretty sick guy (6x) i’m attackin rappers with p-ssion, slash and stab em, cut em up but why? i’m a pretty sick guy (2x)
sick and s-d-stic when i rip it get stuck, ya bish
in the back of your throat i’ll p-ss, then i’ll f-ck your chick
i’ll put your -ss in a box, chop chop, make ya fit
oh, i deliver the fire, hot, burn ya sh-t
cuz i’m insane in the brain but i never complain, inflict pain and maintain
my psycho sick game and if a label wanna sh-t on my name, get stained
neglect from a record exec.? f-ck em, show no coward respect
i’ll put em up in he-rs-s on purpose, no playin possum with threats
these words spit by malice infect, these words spit by malice infect
i can hear ya b-tchin whatcha really wanna get it? imma cut your f-ckin tougne out, fry it in the kitchen
these words spit by malice infect, these words spit by malice infect
quick cut with the machete, now my clothes all reddy, betta call the coroner i got the bags already
makin brain confetti, got the blades like freddy, well what a ya know your toe tagged already
gettin brain, that becky, drain a vein, perfect, thee flow is on another m-th- f-ckin page betty
k!ll em on the beat i”ll f-ck em up and leave em leakin if i’m x pill peakin imma nut up on your mommy
any p-ssy m-th- f-cka comin ta bring the beef on me i’m breakin every bone, fold em up, origami
hook
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