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crow beak museum - black magic lyrics

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witness the sickness as we practice the dark arts
perform human sacrifices in abandoned car parks
taking on the world and i don’t even break a sweat
i spit a freestyle and subsequently raise the dead
you may not realize, but that is my rap tactics
make you think i just spit sick rhymes when it’s really black magic
oh my, such horror when my beak moves
the letters on the paper is just my blood that leaks through
a slack jawed rap star with no need to act hard
no need for fake emotions, my veins are filled with black tar
we’rе stalking hitchhikers wandering on lost trails
wanna talk about taking shots? i drink molotov c+cktails
i’m driven by my sickly instincts as a misfit
i kick it and chеck off all these rich pr+cks from my hit list
will you get the shivers finding out i was born in 10,000 bc
or that i live in that house from p.t?

look alive – i’ll break one finger and sever the rest
might be bereft of respect but i revel in death nevertheless
run away before you discover that the lyrics are real
i stab tyrion’s heel with valyrian steel
if you enter the museum you better have an escape plan
or we’ll turn your whole life into a f+cking wasteland
challenging us would be a costly error
we’ll hit you with a chant that summons cosmic terrors
we appear like horrific lovecraftian beings in your eyesight
serial k!lling madmen from a cursed timeline
you better start shaking and hire some bodyguards
but that won’t stop us from doing weird sh+t to your body parts
anti+religious, dropping bombs on preachers
i’m a more horrible creature than dorothy treacher
marking your grave with black magic signs
and make you rise again, using satanic rites



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