|
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huhhhhh |
|
Kill that cat.. watch me kill that cat |
|
If it's your girl |
|
I'm lookin at |
|
Then watch me kill that cat [Verse One: Cage] |
|
I hunt cunts like these, with underground disease |
|
In they yearly matin spots, spawn a million |
|
MC's (got rhymes) that used to go to shows, drink dance get high |
|
Then you click the mic the whole audience wanna rhyme (yo let me rhyme let me rhyme) |
|
In '92 I let the |
|
Cage outta |
|
Alex Through college radio demonstrate the fist, fuck the love ballads |
|
Summon demons in my ad libs, fun triplin |
|
Vomit good shit, go feed off dead |
|
Christians |
|
Red light in the |
|
Lincoln, from drinkin |
|
Drencrom The corpse in my eye can explain the thinkin |
|
While I lay behind a wall of flesh, engulfed by the homeless |
|
If I escape, |
|
I might evaporate my whole state |
|
Plus when |
|
Cage ripped in half on the concrete |
|
Screamin, "That's my spirit running down the street!" |
|
The undead, writin in gun lead |
|
Liposuct' a fat bitch out her box with one hypo' jab |
|
Inject tiger serum, |
|
I can't hear 'em (who?) |
|
Alex with the fuckin loaded thirty-oh-two, cause [Chorus: Cage] |
|
This is for the whores, and the kicked over stores |
|
And fifty-four dollars in my pocket on tour |
|
This is for the kid that said, "Oh you dead!" |
|
And the fifty-four stitches that he caught in his head |
|
This is for the clowns |
|
I beat with no hands |
|
And the two |
|
O-Z's down to fifty-four grams |
|
With two to the face, |
|
I'm a basket face |
|
With fifty-four seconds to outer space [Cage] |
|
I love a bull mastiff ground up, make a pound up |
|
With green |
|
Jesus, get in |
|
I'll drive you to seizures |
|
Humanoid pause, before |
|
God, with cyborg dogs after me |
|
Killin these rhymin |
|
Sigmund Freuds - for the cause |
|
Your whole life's a waitin room for worms |
|
Strangest occurs, you see |
|
Venus in furs |
|
With toast out facin |
|
Earth, avenge my sixteen |
|
Your old shell talk to pistols like |
|
Starscream |
|
My whole story lost on a wall in black marker 66 more flicks for |
|
Clive Barker |
|
With a little message, for real research kids |
|
Can you guess who the faggot |
|
DJ is? My anti-commercial style will curse you |
|
Say fuck so much, my airplay's like curfew |
|
To third shift farm chemists, the senate scarred |
|
Start killin all the livin like the |
|
Serbian guards |
|
You supportin communism buyin majors so dub |
|
Watch me put two rocks in |
|
Kurt Loder head, whassup [Chorus] {* |
|
Mighty Mi scratches*} |
|
The undead.. red light in the |
|
Lincoln For |
|
Cage.. ripped.. in half on the concrete |
|
Screamin, "That's my spirit runnin down the street!" |
|
Runnin down the street.. runnin d... down the street |
