twiztid - monster inside lyrics
hook]
(a strange monster in you)
turning, twisting me inside
outta control, makes me feel alive
(a strange monster in you)
stab it, shoot it, never die
razors, knives beneath me, i try
people need to feel they’re in control
of their own situation at the end of their rope
a new noose and too many new improved excuses
wounds cover the body and screws become lose
and gruesome, better red than dead
flowin’ again like the blood leaking out of each other’s head
there’s a killer alive inside of my mind
that wants to pull out a butcher knife and stab you 300 times
in the face, it seems that i’ve acquired a new taste
for wiggin’ the f-ck out, no matter the place
it’s a sick new addiction, the horror pulp fiction
-ssuming i’m the killer and not just another victim
empty garbage bags in the back
i’mma eat a little now, save the rest for a snack
she said that i was a monster and a hideous disgrace
so i carved her eyes out and called it a blind date
d-mn, i swear there’s gotta be something lurking inside of me
with the certain purpose of hurtin’ deceitful people for notoriety
(vigilante, archangel blood spiller
arch nemesis, illuminatii zodiac prozilla)
murderous rampage, always searchin’ for fanbase
divine natural talent, attacking you from backstage
me and twiztid we keep it wicked like wes crave
we on the mission, the definition of insane
don’t try to stop us for rocka monsters, just make way
we are the masters of our craft, jack of all trades
three frankensteins created inside of the rap game
we’re programmed to eliminate the mainstream
most of em products, just gimmicks, homie they man made
synthetic rappers, the demographic: to get paid
this is by meanest, s-d-stic, the lack of prolific substance and not for nothing
still nothing, we takin’ it to the limits
cigarette breath, give me a mic check
i’m the white that will rock sh-t like pyrex
i’m the reason the devil was in a red dress
repossess the address and left the b-tch cut up to bits
and headless, this sh-t is iller than all of the killers on craigslist
we ain’t nothin’ to mess with
but still they give us the best b-tch
we hit it out in the parking lot
i’m in the dark with my
witchcraft and death wish with a voodoo doll
made out of corn stalks and dead fish, you’s a dead b-tch
you from the midden, couldn’t catch what i spit
i take sh-ts on mc’s like toilets
boy, it’s a lot of y’all or maybe it’s the alcohol
tell em all that i’m back like spinal cords
keep your wack award, i wanna crack then rip her wall
give you more of that wicked sh-t that you’ve been axin’ for
track info
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