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Keep that machete stashed and swing it on that ass Yeah now who the fuck is this Spittin' limitless you minimalist bitch Something wrong with your brain if you 'ain't feeling this We're 'bout to blow the fucking club up like some terrorists Prepare die with my face planted in a pair of tits You must admit this is the shit that make you sick, the [?] Drink it, drink it up, you think it's safe but you know what It never is, accept what it is Killin' the scene, you know what it is The people [???] Fucking with shit you can never forget Yeah, I got some holes in my head and I fill 'em up with trash I suppose that I'm dead, but you probably shouldn't ask I got some hoes in my bed, and some hundreds in cash, cause I Keep that machete stashed and swing it on that ass Banging heads like some motherfuckin' rockstars Incite riots and light fire to cop cars Hot bars, and we fuck with hot broads No 5's or 7's, if they ain't dimes they're knock-offs Sit in the grave, [?] as a slave, kicking the shit in the wickedest haze Slash like a razor, I'm moving your face Letras de cancionesYou think that you're ill - that isn't the case Real as they come, number the one Can't feel my face, number than numb Pulling the smoke as I come to the lawn Higher this year, dumber than blown [Hook] Datsik Snak the Ripper Young Sin Motherfucker! From Letras Mania