Vinnie Paz

Death By Guillotine
No not too much is new. I'm so fuckin' high, I'm a spit a bomb verse. D-Mothauckin'-Moz nigga. Cyssero. Vin. Some real shit right here baby. Problem. [Verse 1: Demoz] Look, ever feel suicidal to the point that you tried it And when they asked you about it, you don't know how to deny it Doc all in your face, askin' what is the motive You got split personalities and it's hard to control 'em Takin' xenes and perks, drinkin' liquor and beer Feelin' sick to your stomach, tryin' to shift thru the gears On a slippery rope, plus your vision is blurry Worse case scenerio, they'll miss you after you're buried Wife fuckin' your man, brotha stuff in the jam Thought and starred at your pictures, like where the fuck is my dad I'm a problem atomic, tryin' to rhyme with these chickens Shit 'em out in the morning and take a piss on the omelet Made an honesty promise, I ain't gotta be modest I ain't got to be parted, this whole economy's garbage I'm a comet in space, I ain't part of this land I'm a fuckin' two-face, why would you call me your man [Chorus:] Tongue twisted like Pun diggin' my tongue tissue It's one missile, we blow you to little lunch issues We fuck with you, we came with you but left dolo Letras de cancionesWe stuck with you on one issue, we reign solo We through a bomb in the parade at these gay homos We manic [?], how the fuck are they gonna break kodos Freddy roachin' a corner, 'cause we ain't sayin' nothin' And we just sittin' there twitchin' like we sniffin' our caine buggin' [Verse 2: Cyssero] Creep quiet, but that chopper loud (you know how we do) Look, the way I perform with that K that'd rock a crowd Mask and glove when I squeeze them slugs Make a bloodbath, we gonna need a tub Shit, we riding dawg When we catch his ass let that super-soaker wet his ass Dry him off, military tactics Movin' silent dawg Paint the neighborhood red when that iron drawn Yeah, Da Vinci of the gun-slinging, shots make a bastard leak Make a masterpiece, get your casket dropped That's the art of war, bang at the targets [?] war, then burn the bodies, what you need a coffin for If you ain't built for all that, what you talkin' for (be quiet) Yeah, tell your homeboy calm his mad Unless he want a fuckin' problem on his hands (for real) [Chorus] [Verse 3: Vinnie Paz] Yeah, Pazienza put the torch to him Young rap version of Dr. Kavorkian This pussy done, put a fork in him Or I'm a have to let the.44 ball get him He better pray he got a squad with him Like the prototarian revolution of Marxism Put your body in the star system Reveal itself as bleeding light, Allah wisdom Bullets fast when they travel And the silencer is strong and it's long like a javelin Now he dead put a bag in him Green from the dope phene lean, and a scag in him I hold the ratchet unorthodox Brenell Whitticher, I'm duckin' all sorts of shots Various types of torcher plots And I'm a ride 'till I die and the coffin drops From Letras Mania