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letra de sickle & hammer - dzk

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dzk – sickle & hammer

yo, i’m a fascist…h-llo dog, my banner draggin’, red flag, yellow sickle, ‘cross hammer clashing
mellow as some rapids, fella, you get yo’ -ss kicked
develop, the baddest lines like h-lla traffic

minds telepathic, i’m in cellars rappin’
i dwell in blackness, in, helen keller fashion
those with, over-zealous actions, fell in ashes
choking spastic like heavy smoking gr-ss hits

throat fulla tablets, most of ya know my habits
dosage max is nowhere close to average
i swallow bottles like a fully-opened trash-bag
speed-in-me like a throttle to the -ss-crack

beat your head-in, death to my enemies
you’re on your last leg, i’m a freaking centipede
move with the crude energy of bruce lee
soon illusion’s confuse you – when you see

movement… my kung fu kick through trees
my foot spike’s sting and stick to meat
switch stances, to the limp-handed mantis
wrist slanted, slap any man advancing

like a b— standing spun high, defy-gravity
battle me at sun-rise… the ninja academy…
dagger to dagger, stab or be stabbed, you see
i’m mad and that’s why you lose your bladder, think

back to your past as your life is flashing
right, before your eyes where my knife was slashing
blinded, you wait silent, for the final death-blow
but i escape by climbing, your sight left broke

i’m ruthless, leave men crippled, stupid
useless, bleeding, toothless, p-ssing, puking
losing fluids, smash em, black and blue and
drag ’em, bruised and battered through the challenge, shoot em

like rabid dog’s when i’m through with em
which one of you would argue with an armed intruder?
the gruesome mutant, i’m scarred from combat
that’s why i rock dog tags and a long dark mask

the aftermath of my wrath is: detatched
arms, plasma splashed, hearts squashed flat
organs torn from the thorax, bones black
roasted in the glow of the savage flow spat

listen f-g — the only time i ever “hold back”
is when i punch a hole through your chest and grab at
your spine and slide it through your flesh and laugh
as you cry and beg for the after-life, pretty sad

if you ask mr. jackson, your sh– is wack
like every p. diddy act since biggie p-ssed
diggity dag, i’m sickity-sick of these figgity-f-g’s
iddy bitty – sickening wiggidy-wack, iggity–ss rickity-rap’s

gimme it back, i ain’t kriggity-kross, diggity-dog….
but i’m that miggity, miggity, miggity “mack” diggity, diggity, diggity “dad”
listen to that sh– , i’m saying i’m your father, son
what is that a mac-10? [psssh] get a larger gun

madness, i walk with a rocket launcher
on my back, attached to a strong harness, watch it
launch in…. 3… 2.. 1…
from the second you start sh– , i’ll leave you in parts, kid

- dzk

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