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letra de stylo ren - kyle spear [artist]

for those just tuning in this is stylo ren from that weird poser in texas..
keep it locked here on nostalgia radio..
666.6 fm..

[verse 1]
roxanne, you don’t have to turn on the red light.. (don’t have to turn on the red light..)
i’ll come in through the back with the spare key i jacked, with a dull knife, it’s a swell night to get held up & felt up you dyk-.. (dyk-!..)
see if you’ll decide to switch over to the.. (dark side..)
stylo ren with vicodin & like 2 bags of ice to store your carcass nicely in.. (oohoo..)
i’m in an invisibility cloak screaming “leviosa!”, have you floating in a moat that i filled up with coca-cola.. (it’s ‘levio-sah’..)
see how quick you decompose, see if your friends notice & post missing posters hoping you’ll show, don’t underestimate a satanist raising cain with laser beams attached to his fricking skull, offending’s my f-cking mission bro, so get p-ssed when i diss pit bulls, (arf, arf!..), & foreign policy, facebook sociopath, might wanna unfollow me, i’ll post pics of kidnapped toddlers like “help find this kid!”, when actually i’m the one holding him hostage.. (psycho..)
need throat lozenges from the snot i spit, i developed a cough after a south africa visit, sh-t, does this mean i’ll die & you’ll all be glad?, nah, i’ll k!ll you all first & they’ll run out of body bags.. (haha..)
brought naughty mags into pilates class & karate-chopped 2 middle-aged moms while jacking off on laughing gas.. (oh god!..)
(godd-mn, he sounds like eminem, what a copycat!..)
you’re still up on my nuts but don’t forget to fondle the shaft.. (b-tch!..)
hanzo’s back to attack with katanas, damage a panhandler for asking me for a sandwich.. (ooo..)
visited the bataclan in france during mass panic, brandishing a red, white & blue lightsaber like anakin, so d-mn american, fighting terrorists that might only exist because america wants you to believe the sh-t.. (‘murica!..)
but what do i know?, i’m deviant & a derelict, the heritage i inherited consists of heretics & failed marriages..

[hook]
stylo ren, so violent.. (he’s a k!lla..)
soaked in nitroglycerin.. (he’s gon’ k!ll ya..)
you might say that i’m oppenheimer, drop bombs when i write these fire lines, so listen up..
stylo ren, so violent.. (he’s a k!lla..)
hope you b-tches like my sh-t.. (he’s gon’ k!ll ya..)
if my sound’s reminiscent of eminem then shh!, just listen in, i don’t give a f-ck!..
[verse 2]
so seroquel for the serotonin imbalance & therapy’s what i needed but i quit both so it’s terror season, i’m parasailing, impaling your parents airplane, (remain calm, it’s just a tailspin..), they’re never coming home again, i’ll harvest your organs & h–rd em, this horror picture’s normal to me morgan, you’re waking the neighbors, (shut up morgan!..), quit making noise!..
‘roids injected into my groin so this d-ck’s hard as sh-t, (mr. owl..), how many l!cks does it take to get slapped with a stat’ case then acquitted?, quit it b-tch, you’re giving me hickeys i’ll have to explain to the mistress, 6’s, like 3 of em, mark of the beast, screaming “satanist lives matter!”, til i’m beat by police, reeking of s-m-n cuz i can’t quit beating my meat to nudevista clips, man compilations are my sh-t!, you’re a voyeur too, don’t lie, i know you like it, we feed on tragedy & violence like f-cking vampires.. (dracula..)
it’s all relative to the size of your steeple, sorry manson, i had to steal your line, f-ck it, you’re weird bro.. (weirdo..)
been here rearing virgin ears since the first year of lord beerus, peer at the spear through mirrors b-tch cuz direct sight is like medusa seducing ya, turn dudes to stone then i get stoned like jerry garcia..
reaching a fever pitch, hearing this heathen-istic sh-t, please sit a bit & marvel at the sh-t i spit when the ritalin’s swallowed, bought hollows at a target in harlem & all i could think was “godd-mn, i’m the man to not have been shot yet..”.. (pshew, pshew..)
guess i’m a likable guy or maybe i don’t fear dying, maybe i don’t flinch at everything they say is a threat, nothing to fear when you’re way the f-ck up here on a higher plane, i think better than all you robots, (robots..), copping a new chain or wondering whose names in the game are the ones to follow, i stopped following politics when clinton left office, yo!..

(oh my f-cking god!, like, you really do sound like eminem, &-& a little bit like hopsin too!, it’s, i mean, it’s really cool!, i don’t know if it’s just the radio though but you’re not really that original, y’know like even this dialogue, like, hopsin’s done this already honey, like, step your game up, ok?..)

o-okay..

(you’re ruining my f-cking life-)

whoa, whoa!..

(-y’know, with this sh-t!..)
what the f-ck?!..

- kyle spear artist

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