myles malice - something's off lyrics
they all, deserve, to die
theres something off with me
there’s somthing wrong with my brain, there’s something wrong with my brain, i’m really f-cked up, sick as sh-t, a glutton for pain 3x
there’s something off with me, i eat the meat clean off the bone, there’s something off with me, why would i flip on the light when no ones home
i’m back up on the mic, imma k!ll everytihng in f-ckin sight
neva give a sh-t about a b-tch, put em in the dirt quick, m-th- f-ck i cut cho eyes
with a box cutta, blind as i gut ya, lotta m-th- f-ckas scared ta get with me
anybody talkin that sh-t gone get laid down in the ground, six feet deep unpeacefully
you wanna test your luck? wanna gulp my seed? wanna get filled up?
you look a little p-ssed off buddy, were ya tipped off? k!lla in the flesh here ta chop you up
still ya wanna c-ck off, take my f-ckin top off, try it if you wanna but i’ll bet i gone hurt
i’ll be comin rippin jaws out, only when the stars out, step into my lair little b-tch, get murked
stickin em in the back i fillet em up like a butcha, put ya in a dark place, i be packin it for the clap
stickin up for tha pack, split em in the rack, headed for the top, thats a mu f-ckin fact
can’t n0body stop me, ya might as well cop me, i spit a little loco, act a little c-cky
zip it no talkie, swallow my jocky, beat a m-th- f-cka to a pulp like rocky
when the night be, im a psychie, i’m the one to call strictly for the knifing
sneakin up behind he, even if he find me, run if you want, but you are neva surviving
pickin with the pistol, get p-ssed on, ya b-tch, imma split you wide, trade fists off for clips
still the little p-ssy m-th- f-cka wanna trip, instead of blocka, blocka, blocka, imma cut your wrist drain out!
(hook)
zippin em up, shippin em out, not givin a f-ck, theres neva a doubt
my sh-t is equipped with the clips and i shoot from the hip, make ya flip, i’m not f-ckin around
laid down in the rough, you stiff in the ground, if cravin the flavor, i sever the crown
then choppin you up into bits, and cook in the kitchen, wearin a surgical gown
with a smile, no frown, when the meat cool down, imma eat eat eat, til the hunger drown
blood, and bones all around, chunks of flesh that i won’t choke down
liver, pancreas, and spleen, what the f-ck am i gon do with these?
three, two, one, cheese, take a photo of the m-th- f-ckin amputee
in the wallet got the picture keep it with me everyday
memento of the perpetrator, put em in the grave
i show alotta people, i might be a little evil neva claimed to be a saint i’ll gut your mother for the fame
f-ck your sister for the brain, cut your brother for the pain, open up your daddy vein and leave him leakin in the rain
step up in the safe house, sniff a line of cane, rollin up that blunt blowin cl-ss a strain
i’m faded and i’m cravin the flesh, no debatin betta stay in at night
insane up in the brain and imma get ta maimin your frame and i bite
no delayin when i’m filletin ya f-cka, bad day to a pay day despite
the horror that i portray, slit em up, foreplay, countdown, flippin off my switch, goodnight
(hook)
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