discription sez its self.... this should b a good one...

how many bars u feel is needed.. ;)

I'll 'come-strong' an 'bust-out' then rip ya arms off an beat ya wit the wet~ends/
I don't care what i mention, sometimes i dream about sex with my pet~friends// :p

next....

At times I question for me what's destined/
My "feminine side" met my "inner child" and molested-him/
Now my "dark side" is his "best-friend", so she can't best-him/
My "good side" is like "F-this" and for a new home he's questin'/

I'm ridin in the benz, smackin passerbyes with alchohol/
Go to the Maury show, "is it a man or a woman?" Dunno, I fucked em all/"

i'm tha one that made springer what-it-is, full of alcohol-ic-hicks/
fer havin sex wit every species alive an jizz'n on-demonic-tricks//

"Beyond-a-bitch" is how I'd describe-this-chick/
She'd ride-a-dick then slice-a-dick/
A friend of mine confinded-this/
I was like "You don't still like-the-trick"/
He replied-with "Hell nah I don't ride-the-clit/
"One more fight-n'-shit and this might-be-it/
I knew he was lyin'-it's cause she's the type-of-chick/
You fight-to-get. Hey she's hot so he's liking-it/

word, kid "he's likin' it"//'cause I'm a Titan and a Viking wit'
the sensation of splittin' skulls... like brain surgery without vicodin
both child and women will... burn alive in my twin tower dojo
got snaps of depraved acts at age five/like I was One Hour Photo
I'm empowered, solo... blaze skin like the sun without the ozone
without a doubt/in and out of kids like a clown that's a homo

I don' need no knife to cut through yo skin
I've done two out of seven sins,dumped yo eyes into dustbins,
Plucked 'em out,kept 'em in glass cubes
Yo girl is past dude,I'm a ghost to elude,
I'm the real soul eata,not the one in yo prelude!

I'm the fuckin disease in the hospital loss
I'm the worst ghost you ever came across,
I'm-a chop yo thoughts like kriss-kross,
And toss yo empty shell onto yo boss!

Im ridin shotgun in a datsun wit a hot gun to my temple
doin 70 in a 55 rhymin to gods son instrumentals/
You wouldnt bust lead if you broke a number 2 pencil
niggas tracin my style like they made JIZM stencils/
Stuck in the 80's era, im rockin stonewashed denim
rappers are like see-thru panties, i can see the pussy in em/
JIZM still spittin venom, i need anger management
Turn peoples eye purple like a piece of amethyst....


had to add to this...1

I cause disaster-with rhymes and bizzare-bars/
End lines with "slashes" that leave sharp-scars/

As i park cars on foes foreheads//
Forty four finger blasting 'til more-dead and they seep and turn tha floor-red//
So, fuck Stunt - that guys more seen than Elvis//
'Cos they thought he had a third nipple located on his pelvis//
But it was his dick, a sixth, of an inch it sticks//
Out, his pricks firmly in Tias slit and Princes mouth//
And shit, 'cos now its up, its fucked, its out//
I know it don't rhyme but i want tha last word to be oranges...//

^ play off that lol

PZ>

"I know it don't rhyme but i want tha last word to be oranges...//"

I know nothin rhymes with that damn pronounciation
so i'm a jus move past it an get on to~masturbation//
I'll continue to give pleasure till i've got carpell tunnell
if i'm drunk like a vampire i'll drink ya blood from~a~funnel//
that i put-in-ya-eye, from ma penis makin ya begin-ta-cry....

that i put-in-ya-eye, from ma penis makin ya begin-ta-cry....

Make-you-high like illegitamite babys being taken-on-kites//
In strong-winds, put a gun to my lips and pull tha trigger//
Ta see what lead tastes like, its nice but its a little bitter//
Its like if my dick was bigger i could camp under my trousers//
'Cos death is just a clack-"click" like porn on web browsers//

waiting Focus..... :D

PZ>

"'Cos death is just a clack-"click" like porn on web browsers//"

damn, i'm so derty i smell worse than wet shnousers//(sp?)[dog]
i'll fuck any species like i think i've fucking stated-before/
If i was hitler i dont think people could've hated-me-more//
I'm the main reason britney endin up breakin up wit justin
come on look down my pants an see why she was fussin//
i like cussin, and even drinking sometimes till i vomit an puke...

i like cussin, and even drinking sometimes till i vomit an puke...

i'm kinda posh, 'cos i wear albino wombats as shoes// (lol - random!)
I got ice - four gold teeth, three diamond and six ruby//
Maybe THATS WHY i spit colder than even you-be//
I'm just making up words, like infiligrinniegranite//
Haha.... no beef, so i guess this is a veggie sandwich// lol
I'm too tired.... been playing football with friends all day....//

My last for tonight - i'm knackered and am not thinking straight.

PZ>

Whirlwind will rip-those to where they keep their lips-closed like some stiched lips of witch-hoes with swollen lymph-nodes//
Can't afford Cristal, I'll just eat Crisco, a demonic skitzo, got you shook to where yer head lifts-slow//
Launching vomit just-so, my neck's slit-grows, cuz I ran out of spots on my wrists-(OH!)//

My eyes are red,but I ain' an albino
I keep ovujia board inside my casino
I'm known for my traits,just like Al Pachino
Be my advocate,and I'm-a keep yo
And yo soul ain' yours no mo,it's now mine fo sho!

tied myself to a bunk bed with a punk's lead some more funk shread
another's blood's fed to the mouth in my head,reciprocating the dead
one crazy criminal shooting guns at the judge and tribunals
intoxocated subliminals, filled with liquid and timid individuals

should call me Bobbit i grabbed my own penis an began to chopp-it/
jus to fuck a dead bitch, so then it wouldn't b a total necro plummit..

if i was a shibbledink, I'd give you a nobbin -
but i'm just a corpse and i'm dead in my coffin.

There's no stopping, as Im enforcing a dozen forces of headless corpses on top of demonic horses carrying bloodstained torches//
Launching appendages on top of your porches, satanic menaces with quijas(sp?)-in-hand//
Squeeze-these-skin-slabs, and see-me-grin-mad, as I bite into them shits like a Tyrannasaurus//
A bunch of gangstas in a van-or-a-Taurus, shooting at you till yer too scared to run away AND-you-run-toward-us//

towards-us? thats when my sword-busts, when i'm wielding, revealing raw guts, sure- 'nuf/
i'll leave you whores-fucked, painfully, anully, with this mic chord-stuck, and colon torn-up... what? it's just how i've been brought-up/

running around stressing, messing in the graveyard at night
one more fight looking for another victim tonight
the only thing left between you your sole and the light
my sharp knife, a few strikes and a morbid gash close in sight

Ya'll are termites, got wood in your mouth all night/
Different germ types, AIDS, gonorhea, E-coli/
Face me see the face of death/
Disgrace me be sure to brace your breath/

understood half the words it doesnt matter anyway
ready to lace out a curse on friends in the worse way
unheard of today was the psychotic gay, fled from the scene with a loaded machine
attacking even the wierdest fiends with tropical cream that i use when i slay

Crissagrim bit my style ;)

...what I use-when-I-slay//is TWO-types'a-blades
to leave TWO-eyes-fileted... at least TWO-times-a-day
~ infect the population... with a new-type-of-AIDs//
when I anally rape women - more than TWO-times-my-age
let each new-line-amaze, an' let loose-my-brigade
to die for no good reason...//like the Jews-I-parade
my head gassed-up-like-Hitler, so pass-UP-the-pitcher
Jesus was a faggot... I wiped my ass-with-the-scripture

*immediately begins praying for forgiveness*

this is rap,-fuck-a-scripture, blow~up~your~flat-with-a-stinger
~ missile from a mounted launcher... attached-to-my-finger
sew~up~your~back-with-a-singer//use flesh just-to-decorate
a couple throw pillows and shit... nuthin'-special,-"mate"
PLUS-I-levitate... the grim reaper speaks in my sleep
slip my dick knee deep in a sheep... Lil' Bo don't make a "peep"

Haha, Ninja I remember going to church twice a week after recording Anghellic.

Lil Bo don't make a peep? That's cuz I'm smothering his face wit gat-prisms//
And suffocate him like babies drowning by demonic preachers at baptisms//
I got anger problems, who doesn't? But I'm beginning to think I need some medicines//
Cuz I got sort of obsession of gunning down nuns wit guns that got speech impediments//
If I ever wanted to drop sentiments, give yer dead body 35 in yer ear to give ya a head-of-'cents'//
Nothing but a skitzo pesimist, with my own cemetary in the basement of my residence//