lil jack – bad habit lyrics
[hook]
they say i’m a addict, got bodies in my attic
i admit i got his habit, detachin’ sh-t with this hatchet
wakin’ up gaspin’, thinkin’ of caskets
practice black magic in masks, m-ssacre
we murder men in body bags soaked in gas
yeah, addict, bodies in my attic
i admit i got his habit, detachin’ sh-t with this hatchet
wakin’ up gaspin’, thinkin’ of caskets
practice black magic in masks, m-ssacre
we murder men in body bags soaked in gas b-tch
[verse 1]
i turn this night club into a fight club
the gauge’ll blow yo chest out, blame that white stuff
got a n-gg- geekin’, leave ’em leakin’
ain’t no tellin’ what we thinkin’
russian ak blow yo face away, j-a-k manson
we come for yo life, bl–dy sacrifice
scream n-gg-, not a dream n-gg-, infrared lights
bury them badly beaten bodies, call ’em skeletons
pull up then we pop out leavin’ bodies lyin’ everywhere
masked up, banana clips, blow will get yo family k!lled
best to come equipped or have a whip full of hollow tips
bodies under my belt, i got bodies off in my trunk
if them police pull me over then i’m f-cked
[hook]
they say i’m a addict, got bodies in my attic
i admit i got his habit, detachin’ sh-t with this hatchet
wakin’ up gaspin’, thinkin’ of caskets
practice black magic in masks, m-ssacre
we murder men in body bags soaked in gas
[verse 2]
they say i’m a k!lla my n-gg-
i’ll leave ya dead before the sun rise
walk up to yo house, turn that b-tch into a bonfire
barbwire fetish, blowin’ lettuce, smoking gunfire
dumb high, shawty say “they shootin’! duck! return fire!”
on the corner: pump toters, c-ck and leave ’em slumped over
n-gg-s dyin’ everyday, least that’s what my pops told us
blood all over my shoes, suffer from substance abuse
they say i’m losin’ my mind, b-tch i ain’t got sh-t to lose!
my neighbors confused, they want my head in a basket
see my face on the news, i left that -ss in a casket
manson -ss-ssin blast, need that -ss in a trance
break out them body bags and bl–dy murder man dance
[hook]
they say i’m a addict, got bodies in my attic
i admit i got his habit, detachin’ sh-t with this hatchet
wakin’ up gaspin’, thinkin’ of caskets
practice black magic in masks, m-ssacre
we murder men in body bags soaked in gas
yeah, addict
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