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Do not ring the bell, there is nobody home The spirits around will haunt you, do not ring the bell There is nobody home Apartment 223,(Scratch: I'm very hungry) (3x) Apartment 223 with body parts under my bed cut your abdomen out stab your fuckin leather coat I chant while candles burn with robes on You will learn Christian no Hebrew on the the balcony I see you The devils coffin with corpse of course In a mental state earthquake Letras de cancionesSchitzophrenic eatin' Campbells soup Takin a piss urinalysis test I hope you wear a fuckin bullet proof vest Just purchased the charter arms .38 Then you entered the confetti hell gate On the pee(?) floor bloody towels on sculptures Machine gun suitcases, for all you niggaz with 2 faces Mass murder, should have been in San Quentin I'm doin'life to ten, when I come home you goddamn right I'm goin back again Fuck the drinks on the table While you sleep I take pictures of bullets in your navel Open your face and pour milk in your forehead Count the bodies, that's four dead Look behind your fuckin' back With the drill bit in your ass crack, EXTREME PRESSURE Teach you a lesson Fuck your confession of evil I march with black sheep on the Sunset streets With hoods like Dracula I walk in back of ya Draggin you stomach parts to McDonalds Drink Absolut bottles and bottles, while you tryin' to fuck with the most exotic models [Chorus] As you see the sign, beware of animals A fuckin wild habitat My living room is the wilderness with spots on my carpet practicing my gun targets Virtual reality is a rough end to yor career set you on fire in a leather chair Using charcoal to broil Rap you jealous eyeballs in aluminum foil Wearin' Masses(masks) on the telephone talkin to your black asses, with stocking caps I reach I'm takin'your ass in a rented van to Venice Beach In a cardboard box Beatin' down your knees with a bag of Master locks Police can't hear you with a dead body tied near you It's hot, I 'm drinkin' soda with a tech-9 sprayin' your fan belt motor Stop the bullshit, blast you hands of the hood I pull quick Video tape you in a puddle of blood with razors in your dick With an extra clip I move your torso Spit on you hips With Mac-11 vice grips, surgery is major With my sneakers stompin' on your pager With my cup of Maxwell coffee, I like niggas whose bossy Fuck the critics I press your back Steam burn through your straight leg jeans Soakin your bones out in the washing machine, with tide soap in the laundromat you witness the killing Your man got scared called Riverdale with a baseball hat, took a cab to Hawthorne I know where he's goin' You can't hide in an empty apartment with a matress and no protection, with a New York psycho Bombshells in the Hollywood section I'm pressin bells and bells and bells till you fuckin let me in [Chorus] Follow you on tour like a haunted nightmare Kickin' in your intestines like Rick Flair Standin' by the Mobil gas station with a flamethrower and a fuckin lawnmower, throwin big lighters at your fuel tank I smash your face in the elestric window, piss on your fenders With my ubbrella up like the Avengers Plead guily in court bring glocks through security x-reays going for the worlds record Shut the fuck up about music, I'm playin' checkers with blood Polo shirts Lookin' at the fireworks on the dirty ass terrace Bones in 'fridgerators spring water and lettuce Fuck it if your jealous Gather crackers with flowers around 'em Keep you eyes around 'em Buck dishes, dial your ambulance I'm on a mission Open up your shin guards in tinfoil Warmin' my bread and Saurkraut while your legs boil Ketchup and Mustard, Fuck voodoo Paint on my face lookin off my roof like Shaka Zulu Surroundin you area for the biggest mass hysteria Muhammed don't (he mad?) While you motherfuckers eat pork I tast real humans on my fork [Chorus x4] [Frankenstien's assistant type voice] You do not see anything on the table? (Chairs squeak against floor) Well wait until I get the box.... From Letras Mania