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letra de mask and knife - brotha lynch hung

[intro skit]

[dude 1]
ay my nig, is that some weed right there, my nig?
let me hit that sh-t, man ya feel me? p-ss that sh-t

[dude 2]
naw, this ain’t weed, n-gga, you know what this is

[dude 1]
i don’t know what it is…

[dude 2]
you see how shiny the cigarette is, n-gga (hehehe)

[dude 1]
awww, that crippler dippler!

[dude x or g-macc(?)]
roberto, let’s do it again!

[verse 1: g-macc]
clear my throat, then i
pull a b-tterfly knife out the back pocket chop it with a semi
half of the body left in the closet
the other half in the cutl-ss with me
wanna come back with the gonorrhea
feed it to ’em, stomach empty
look at her fifty stab wounds, hit her with ten
droppin’ the knife, then pickin’ it up, then shiv her again
deliver it to the meat grinder, makeshift grade weed finder
dig her back up, eat the eyes up
beat your wife up, keep the knife cut
i got decay, put it to your face, piece releasin’
i bury your face deep to the sea creatures’ region
i’m knee deep in your niece’s feces
right of the pee/tree(?) screamin’ finger up, back from the guts, eat these
you can look at me, i’m three people
one of em axe murderer, one of em cat burglar, other one pure evil
lil’ ripgut ’bout to pick it up and then rape sh-t, sake sh-t
alcohol and razor blade kit… (let’s rip it!)

[hook]
every single day i take a fetus with me (eat it!) x8

[verse 2: bleezo]
frequent, with a black ski mask and a knife!
the freak hazardous type
got sick habits to beat rappers, deceased afterlife
i’ll sneak in your pad and catch you while you sleep stab you twice
and with no knee pads knee pads i’ll tea bag your wife!
n-gga, i breathe g-ss in the mic
no 2 chainz, but i be in the trap with bean bags all right
did i mention g-macc, i hope you got a beast appet-te
spit at nuts and guts and chunks of human meat slabs tonight…!
i eat the beat alive, i’m a mic vulture
play all my money, i carve you n-ggas like an ice sculpture
my mind’s kinda bipolar
i’m a high roller, eye swoler
i’ll probably stab a b-tch before the night’s over
my flow’s dope b-tch, i rhyme yola
i be eatin’ n-ggas like side orders, when i ride on ’em
a scoundrel
run up in your household with a scalpel and scalp you
for one hundred thousand and counting, i suicide note’cha

[hook]
every single day i take a fetus with me (eat it!) x8

[verse 3: brotha lynch hung]
everybody ’bout to get chopped up
meat grinder, heat finder, we find her
puttin’ her up in the cut, with a couple of razors up in her b-tt
ya boy be f-cking it up, and there ain’t n0body that can touch
i ain’t lyin’ n-gga, i’m kobe bryant in the clutch
grrr, mask and the knife
run up in your house, n-gga, and i’m slashin’ your wife
kidnappin’ your infants, i’m rippin’ sh-t, i get into sh-t
run up on ’em, gun up on ’em, i won upon ’em, sickle sick! (grr)
k!ll a n-gga like cancer if he think about f-cking with me
sticking a .50 caliber up the gut, hit the kidneys
rapin’ a n-gga, scr-pin’ a n-gga off the plate
i think my brain is off the slate
(ay n-gga, ay, come here n-gga) altercate
running through n-ggas like walter payton
dead wife at the altar waiting
grr, splitting the cleavage, i got the meat cleaver
cuttin’ em up when i eat people!

[hook]
every single day i take a fetus with me- (at it!) x8

[outro skit]

- brotha lynch hung

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