maulskull – let it bleed lyrics
verse one:
f-ck boys get disrespected and k!lled out
and they ain’t ready to witness death but they will now
it’s real how i could rip your flesh and it peels down off your f-ckin chest at the buckets of guts i spilled out
how does it feel now?
cause i’m terror with fires of chimera inside of my f-ckin grill now
the knife bearer with pipe shares
i might spare a life if i fight fair and swallow these little pills down
yeah
i’m full of psychoactives in a bath with whitney houston
taking naps with michael jackson
i go smashin hydro gr-sses
got you paranoid and scared of things
you’re hiding in the closet
i’m hanging with david carradine
and i’ll be up all night like i ain’t seen sleep
probably wake up dead in a coffin that’s three feet deep
the scene’s bleak and you can find me where the fiends creep as i proceed to make ears bleed out on these mean streets…
verse two:
unforgiven for my livid indiscretions
living in this picture perfect imperfection i perfected
since the second i could question misdirect directed simple sections sectioned into nimble bending limbs i ripped and disconnected
injection keeps me icobody headless horseman
sick of gotti portions this ungodly presence courses through my veins
i pick apart these random endomorphins when my wicked art of sickened hearts was left abandoned with the corpses
yeah
they know they’ll never be me
i’ll sing it in soprano with the ghost of gandolphini
so feed me marijuana smoke and hope you never see me when i rip your f-ckin abdomen to maggot scallopini
and i’ll be up all night like i ain’t seen sleep
probably wake up dead in some p-ssy that’s three feet deep
the scene’s bleak and you can find me where the fiends creep as i proceed to make ears bleed out on these mean streets…
verse three:
i am hostile from the awful thoughts and bottle pulling vodka shots
i’m poppin off and stocking lots of bodies on my chopping blocks
a mantra for the dead to rot your head with akhenaten knots
i’m nodding off to bed i won’t forget to lock the coffin box
i’m doctor octagon with flocks of prosti-walking succubusses
f-ck you cause this ugliness is coming once you suck you substance
hundred dollar bills with erythroxylum esophaguses
coughing off the chronic while your honoring the offering
a sacrifice
of course i worship the savage christ
no remorse
you’re a horror story enforced with a stabbin knife
i’m a sport with a four forty and store you with bags of ice
you’re a corpse with no for-warning rewarding my appet-te for the disdain
sickness affixing to this brain
viciously feeling krocodil is still within his veins
thick stains of blood
the proper ceiling for this grave
switch blades and guns for softer k!llers and b-tch mades
you are 138 away from being misfits
one pearly gate away with bleeding slit wrists
one serving weight a day to feed the sixes and this demon on my shoulder crossing names between his hit list
i’m packing bags of bones in cracks of catacombs and stacking racks of battered cold cadavers like collectibles
i wanna trache you to a place thats full of necks with holes and vanish into missing person posters on electric poles…
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