kmakze – triple sixxx lyrics
(hook x2)
six, six, six, the number of the beast
feast on the flesh of the wicked and the weak
the sickest, i’m not kiddin’ sacrilegious is a given
misunderstood, but never good so shut your mouth and listen
i got a knife without a handle, just another blade
so when i slice through you, my hand feels the same pain
blood starting to drip, feel the plasma mix
no remorse for these acts, just a love of violence
deprived of my humanity, empathy abandoned me
gave it up to the devil, for a taste of immorality
machetes and meat cleavers, sweat pants and wife beaters
blood covers the laces of my new nike sneakers
a h-ll sp-wn, arrived with bells on, in time
to watch the world burn slow and then eventually die
denounce religious sects, for the violence they inject
holier than thou, coaxing mary into s-x
i’d sell my soul to the devil to coat myself in success
using pages of the bible all ripped into shreds
then piece it back together, slowly st-tch by st-tch
and let you see it my way, for what this mockery is now…
(hook x2)
bathing in blood bled, from a slit on a sl-ts neck
and sharing the same tub, finger f-cking for fun yet
her wet c-nts scent, reminiscent of cinnamon
is the last sign of life from a corpse that’s deader than
a hundred men, who were beaten and buried in shallow graves
and repeatedly stabbed in a haze of jealous rage
who’s daughters were gang raped, sons lynched and hung
with their petrified wives asked to join in the fun
do i give off the vibe, of a guy, who’s k!lled five times
and not with drive by’s but cleavers and butcher knives
that’s stashed in my bas-m-nt, adjacent to defaced makeshift
crude interpretations of s-xy celeb faces
sitting on a church step, writing my most rugged
getting straight with the lord, but i’m still the devils puppet
and i love it, so stuff it, you wanna point the f-ckin’ finger?
why don’t you take a whiff of mine and tell me who’s b-n-rs bigger?
(hook x2)
a devil worshiping satanist, evil hate spewing atheist
wipe my -ss with the bible from revelation to genesis
raping the baptist church, down right where it hurts
straight through the backside of the good books holiest verse
i’m tonguin’ the studded cl-toris of a hooker sick with decadence
lookin’ for conversation in all of the wrong places
a devilish dirtball, born, cut from the same cloth
as every single psychopath the governments ever locked up
fearful of finding unwanted guests in the mirror
these demons follow me everywhere, i can feel ’em they’re near
yes, they’re watching from the shadows, lay in every nook and cranny
slowly possessing the furthest reaches of my sanity
the capitalization of the i and the g
puts god on the exact same pedestal as me
and to even question his existence is the deadliest sin
but is it wrong for me to think that god comes from within?
(hook x2)
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