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cult of the damned - part deux lyrics

[outro: barebase]
do you know which direction to to take at the intersection
do you know which direction to to take at the intersection
do you under stand which direction to try and take at the intersection
can you even understand which direction is necessary to take at the intersection

[verse 1: lee scott]
fire in my eyes like i’ve seen h-ll
i might walk in your house
and spit on your couch
but i mean well
sittin’ with a pretty beach belle
i listen to the sh-t
flowing through the sewer
in the seych-lle
try your luck and do it by the book
i’m at the crash site of a flying f-ck
middle fingers up like they’re stuck
until i’m sipping my white lightening
from a fine china cup
[verse 2: barebase]
it’s like you can’t even predict the gun i’ve been here
seasons change i’ve been clear
forecast here is swimwear
all year
in around
i’ve been around
and i’ve been there
but i’m still here
and i still disappear into thin air
at the drop of a hat
or the click of a finger
i can promise you that
or your money back
funny how i navigate the streets of london now
with an ease
the likes of which my enemies would never see me coming
and i’ve been the gun and
way before steven segal was under seige
i can see the sequel, the second coming

[verse 3: sleazy f]
yeah, it’s mister barebacker, whackin’ ribs
bag and taggin’ kids
sufferin’ suckertash i put the p-ssy in bandages
activist activist, anakin with the savagin’
darth vader your champion
f’ your ma’ while i’m dabbing’ this
ugh, i’m building spliffs while bashin’ sniff
i’ve came a long way since biff and chip
ugh, heroin on my fingertip
i put it on your b-tches lips
bell us if you need a hit (eyarr)

[verse 4: black josh]
black josh the beligerant
so f-ckin’ ignorant
i’m a scally, i’m a chav
i’m a hoodlum, i’m a lad
with a bag thats filled with piff
i was a gun prat
that robbed those cats
that [?] rides up on a n-gg-s d-ck
i’m on a cold sag at your missus’ crib
air max on your sofa
rags i’m a stoner
splabs of the doja
tabernashin to your b-tches t-ts

[verse 5: stinkin’ slumrok]
[??]
i’ll be bathing in your change
now the home keep chattin’ yes fam
the [??] more like (save it)
sending n-gg-s right back
i’m bellerin on the raider hood
your missus got that brains
and now we keep her in the base jar
flying over heads
like when j man got me waved off
[??]
momma watch me mouth out of my face
i’m still that sc-mmy f-cking nuiscance
in that camber crazy [??]

[verse 4: bisk]
i think my brains lying to my mind
either that
or you’ve got your finger in my pie yo’
but i just want to let you know
have you thinking its my b-tch to your setup ho’
now i can take a sh-t where you live
cos you had to rent a crib
taking pics with the kids (like?)
(pause)
you don’t wanna see bisk with a biff

[verse 5: bill shakes]
m-s-ch-st and a schizo
chattin’ sh-t to my kin-folk
smash a brick through your window
your nasty b-tch is a nympho (ha)
blastin’ it in her pin hole
roll on squares
go to work with your splab and a signal
afro comb is a pitch fork
vagabond
my blackburn stomp that is a crip walk
what is that? he’s never c-cked a gat
he’s only popping’ caps when he’s cracking’ a vimto

[verse 6: king grubb]
i’m driving smashed and jackin’ banks like rip torn
blastin’ pigs and crashin’ whips into brick walls
tell your b-tch the king called
watch your rain transform to a sh-t storm
gone insane, rotten brain from chongin’ weight
shouts to jsa for proving that doing nothing pays
i got a lot of names
job today gone tomorrow
whats an honest wage?

[verse 7: sly moon]
yo
the one and only but i’m still a phoney (who?)
kill you slowly like a filtered rollie (ha)
closest homies still don’t know me (ugh)
break in your crib and steal your groceries
all i do all day is smoke cheese
then proceed to sniff c-ke till my nose bleeds
overdosin’ on old e
roll trees
creating smoke screens, false hopes and broke dreams

[verse 8: salar]
big up the crushed
ritalin, creatine and c-ke team
i want a low key
on the pole clean
prole queen
she asked me who the f-ck is jolene
smoothed it up like –
“don’t worry ’bout that”
your crews a bunch actin’ sound rats
fakest st–ze, chasin’ cheese in the mouse traps
this ain’t about that
im in the house like where your spouse at?
those gutter, b-tter flows i announce that
with undertones
covered though
your mother knows

[verse 9: tony broke]
i end ya with the super eagle that murders souls with [??]
my mind thinks sick thoughts
from a dark web of lyrics
with flows of -rs-nic and ricin
mustard gas blast when he chat broke on a search engine
f-ck you if i’m offended all you frauds that are pretendin’ (blah)
army coat rags from the depths of the skittin worthless
choke your brain with violence
silence those who try and scratch the surface
socially, your -rs- is where your face is trading places
i’m faking legless
on a self made trolley
and hustle sp-ces

- cult of the damned lyrics

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