mr. morbid & melph - m.o.r.b.i.d. lyrics
[verse 1: mr. morbid]
let me keep it real, i don’t claim to know the answers
i’m just dropping sick sh-t like colon cancer
broken rappers in half till their bones are shattered
i’m so bananas, ape sh-t, frozen grammar
i’m throwing hammers like thor at an open casket
throats get slashed, i’m asking for total madness
no distractions, cloaks and daggers, hopeless b-st-rds
thrown and dragged into a hole of sadness
flows are savage, sleeping on them, old pyjamas
dozing off on your lonely mattress like a ghost in static
i have no hope roll the cameras
while i blow my dome off with a loaded bammer
grow with anger, every day choked and strangled
dealing with the type of sh-t that most can’t handle
blow the candles out, game over
dangled over the abyss, feel bliss, soul entangled
[chorus: mr. morbid]
what’s my name, m-o-r, b-i-d
and i’m gonna rip mics till i d-i-e
don’t make me f-cking stick knives in ya e-y-e
i’ve had a f-cking sick life, you don’t see my grief
what’s my name, m-o-r, b-i-d
and i’m gonna rip mics till i d-i-e
don’t make me f-cking stick knives in ya e-y-e
i’ve had a f-cking sick life, you don’t see my grief
[verse 2: mr. morbid]
say h-llo to the face basher, i f-cking hate rappers
was born in a grey casket with a straightjacket
me and ted bundy prolly had the same parents
deranged madness, i’m making tracks and they straight bangers
you ain’t stepping to my sh-t, but if you do
i’m gonna put your head in a vice grip, then stab you with icepicks i’ve had it with life sh-t, so d-mnit i might flip
i’m banging ya wife quick, my hands on her nice t-ts
some friendly advice kids, don’t ever be like this
cause all the sh-t i’m facing is quite sick
i’m taping ya eyelids together
and stay ahead of the game no matter
plus i’m making ya brains splatter
you won’t be giving performances with a smashed head
walking in with a gasmask, bargaining for ya last breath
accept facts, your best bet, is getting a death threat
or getting ya neck snapped on snapchat
[chorus: mr. morbid]
what’s my name, m-o-r, b-i-d
and i’m gonna rip mics till i d-i-e
don’t make me f-cking stick knives in ya e-y-e
i’ve had a f-cking sick life, you don’t see my grief
what’s my name, m-o-r, b-i-d
and i’m gonna rip mics till i d-i-e
don’t make me f-cking stick knives in ya e-y-e
i’ve had a f-cking sick life, you don’t see my grief
[verse 3: mr. morbid]
it’s death before dishonor, life’s a samurai showdown
so f-ck a sword this pen is getting stabbed in your throat now
challengers go down, in flames like the sp-ce shuttle
i break bottles and cut you up till your face crumbles
you fakes mumble and whisper like old memories
i say what i feel then p-ss on my cold enemies
stiff and abandoned, i will leave my victims dismantled
then b-tches get strangled to death under fl!ckering candles
vicious commando, nightstalker listen to metal
then put your f-cking kids through h-ll as a gift for the devil
blistering heat, you’ll see me on the history channel
the most prolific serial k!ller, too sick to be handled
i play with your nerve endings like the strings of pianos
you sing like sopranos, your blood is like the ink on a canvas
in sync with the madness, put my old shrink in a casket
because he didn’t think that my actions were simple distractions
[chorus: mr. morbid]
what’s my name, m-o-r, b-i-d
and i’m gonna rip mics till i d-i-e
don’t make me f-cking stick knives in ya e-y-e
i’ve had a f-cking sick life, you don’t see my grief
what’s my name, m-o-r, b-i-d
and i’m gonna rip mics till i d-i-e
don’t make me f-cking stick knives in ya e-y-e
i’ve had a f-cking sick life, you don’t see my grief
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