necro-poetry in the streets

keep the killer shit that Myrtle Bob said bitch check it the price runs the tape-record the bloody mass documentation to the human race good studies that don't reach into your TV speaker no feature a creature that will beat you to death the peak of meat job you're executed when you're electrocuted movie possible for home was made of dead and smells you'd read were murdered your natural what I shaft is being thrown in the river would be frozen forever and you a statue with that a grasshopper hole in the lab dad stands in the head knives to light that hands of a fan jabbing your flaps in your bathroom is glad throw you up a building killing off your children drilling holes in your clubs they just pull them the color of a million will split your brain so slit your vein the impact of a black back to push you back is like getting hit by a train I'm sick of reading in your blood banks and strangled my Shango letting go you like the triangle diesel a bangle I think my jet to brutal form oh I might be the only one capable of digesting the dough you won't survive a screwdriver driven inside control children blood and saliva with nothing could neither grow the poetry in the streets or the Big Apple and the vitality found a few other places little beneath the surface of the city and you shallow over receiving cesspool of your emotions gone sour a planet when nightmares happy a reality witness to batalla de poetry in the streets at a Big Apple you get tackled and grapple to the floor white leg off a shackle bit on your grave pissing your mouth and shit on your face graduating a slob meeting circuit to your friends remove your bad taste another brutal shooting rampage turn the doobage the ashtrays boobies the crack slaves your boobies the black day it's working mad move I'll never have guilt I have real happy fags killed in front of your mom and dad's grill a lot of bolts of that we're pieces of goobers go ahead rape Agnes is singing clothing ready I think you're nothing pain and hurts we make music with drug addict pieces of shit they love the dirt it's psychological I'm like having the rifle shot at you be not the night to smile at you recite the body you slit your throat with the broken bottle this is a jagged glass cabin you threw your fucking eyeballs as you swallow a cyanide screaming ah horse might secure your visit you first set your minds laws leaves you in the beautiful home make a fine course got you splattered across the walls where my knives are murder your execution-style like a try boss travel through time and terminate you like a sidewalk I've been telling you grindcore over tree in escrita the Big Apple and the vitality very few other places what we need the surface of the city and you shall um over receiving cesspool of human emotion gone sour a planet where nightmares happy but reality witness to petrology poetry in the streets of the Big Apple you get tackled and grapples to the floor white slave golfers shackle you

20 thoughts on “necro-poetry in the streets

  1. I start listening necro when I was 13 and still 32! I’m rocking it

  2. 20 years later and this song still remains in my top ten. We turn humans to ashtrays…. groupies to crack slaves!!! My mentality 's grindcore. Peep tha killa shit….fuckin dirtbags!

  3. Uh
    Peep the killer shit
    Death murder rap shit
    Check it
    The press runs to tape-record the bloody mess
    Documentation so the human race can study death
    They'll reach you through your TV speaker
    You're executed when you’re electrocuted
    Who's responsible for a homeless man that's dead and smells putrid
    We murdered your natural flesh after being thrown in a river
    You will be frozen forever into a statue of death
    A grasshopper in the lab dead
    Stabbed in the head
    Knives are like the hands of a crab
    Jabbing your flab till you wrapped them and bled
    Throw you off a building
    Killing off your children
    Drilling' holes in your corpse till you're spilling the color vermilion
    We'll split your brains
    I'll slit your vein
    The impact of a bat cracked across your back is like getting hit by a train
    I'll stick a fang in your blood bank
    Then strangle my shangle bangle you like the triangle piece of bangle
    I think my shit's too brutal for most
    I might be the only one capable of digesting the dose
    You won't survive a screwdriver driven inside your throat
    Choke on blood and saliva another conniver croaks
    It's poetry in the streets of the big apple
    And a vitality found in few other places
    But look beneath the surface of the city
    And you shall uncover a seething cesspool of human emotions
    Gone sour
    A planet with nightmares that become reality
    Witness the brutality
    There's poetry in the streets of the big apple
    You get tackled
    And grappled to the floor, white slaved up and shackled
    I spit on your grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your face
    Grind you into slop meat and serve you to your friends
    We're moving bad taste
    Another brutal shooting rampage
    Turning humans to ashtrays
    Groupies to crack slaves
    And boobies that lactate,
    Squirting mad milk, I never have guilt
    I have krill's, I'll have you fags killed
    In front of your mom and your dads grill
    Splattering both of them
    With pieces of your exploding head
    Brain fragments staining' clothing red
    I make you love the pain, it hurts
    We make music for drug addict pieces of shit that love the dirt
    It's psychological
    I'm like having a rifle shot at you
    We're not the type that smile at you
    We're the type to body you
    Slit your throat with a broken bottle
    Pieces of jagged glass stabbing' you through your fucking eyeballs
    Have you swallowing cyanide screaming die whores
    Watch it kill your physical first, next your minds lost
    Leave you in the funeral home you make a fine corpse
    Got you splattered across the walls when my nine talks!
    Murder you execution style like a crime boss
    Travel through time and terminate you like a cyborg
    My mentality's grind core

  4. Watched him at Loppen at christiania/copenhagen in 2010, was amazing wish i could see Non Phixion to.

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