Return Of The Corpse

(album: The Tragedy Of A Clown - 2020)

Fuck you, man! Fuck you!
Turn your punk-ass over!
Oh, we got a problem here?
We got a problem here? We got a problem, nigga?

Dog pound pit, you poodle bitches cannot fuck with me
Pull up with the stick, I'll make you limbo, you not ducking me
Hollow tips just dumping, fucking up suckas, I guarantee
Hanging out the window of my bucket, let my choppa sing
Knock a pussy down, make that bitch nigga go kiss the floor
Walk up to the pit, I came to break jaws and throw these bows
Lay it down, before I run up in your shit and kick your door
Stepping all on water, call me Young Rami, Lil' Jesus Cristo
Resurrect him from the dead, red dot pointed at your head
Making any sudden movements, then I'll fill you up with lead
12-gauge sawed-off, I love the way that motherfucker spread
Bitch, your time has come, so it's time to pay the reaper's debt

Oh, we got a problem here?
We got a problem here? We got a problem, nigga?

G-L-O-C-K, take it out my waist, begin to play
Cock it back and meet your fate then turn your fucking body grey
Laying stiff in blood and shit, the Undertaker fills your grave
Rest in peace, you pussy boy, I'm pissing where your carcass lays
I must confess, I find content taking your final breath
One up in the chamber, on the creep with Anna on my chest
Keep them bustas running, 'cause Gorilla's not the one to test
Voices in my head tell me they hunger for some fucking flesh
I'm coming in hunting with my demons on my payroll
Now put your guns up in the air and let that motherfucker blow
I'm sending these shots and give these motherfuckers halos
Send you straight up to heaven, ain't no return where your bitch ass go