Kredyty
PERFORMING ARTISTS
La Coka Nostra
Performer
Sen Dog
Performer
Big Left
Performer
Slaine
Performer
ILL BILL
Performer
Grisha Dimnant
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Erik Schrody
Songwriter
William Braunstein
Songwriter
George Carroll
Songwriter
Leor Dimant
Songwriter
Daniel O'Connor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Lethal
Producer
Tekst Utworu
Bloody Sunday, Black Sabbath
The Pope's a pedophile with a drug habit
We're all clinically depressed, they got us all manic
We keep swallowing they pills so we don't fuckin' panic
Run for the hills, grab your automatic
Bring your big black boots, ya fighting gloves
Psycho Realm's in the house screamin' out (fuck love!)
Sick Side in the house screamin' out (fuck love!)
Ayo, Back From The Dead, back at it again
It's the anti-Christo with the antigen
Punk I'll take yo pistol, give it back and then
If you act up again, you gettin' clapped, my friend
This Coka familiar, five alone will kill ya
King Kong ain't got shit on this here guerrilla
Classic Off The Wall like Mike from Thriller
A monster in the legend, hail this Godzilla
We got the heat for the streets
The bag for the drop
The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
The move and the shake
The move and the wake
Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate
We got the heat for the streets
The bag for the drop
The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
The move and the shake
The move and the wake
Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate
They say hip hop's hanging from a noose like Saddam Hussein
But LCN make you jump around like House of Pain
I take it back like Purple Rain envelopes
Crazy Eddy episodes, break and enter hoes
Every record sold's equivalent to coke, homie
Welcome to the Terrordome
I'm inappropriate like Kramer with a megaphone
Black and fire, steel, my mind's ILL
Got you on a mission like a crackhead to find krills
I come from a place where the apocalypse is now
Armageddon, Nostradamus called it, you are now with the rawest
It's unwarming light, sun turned to God, God turned to son
Murder one, no match, no blood and no gun
Fire and brimstones, stem cell clones
Mini-microphones implanted deep in your bones
They tappin' the phones, mapping the homes
(clappin' the chromes!)
Ding-dong, click-clack, one in the back of the dome
We got the heat for the streets
The bag for the drop
The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
The move and the shake
The move and the wake
Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate
We got the heat for the streets
The bag for the drop
The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
The move and the shake
The move and the wake
Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate
I'm a rebel poet, my words treated like it's contraband
I'm unresponsive to taunts of critics and wants of fans
Angelic demonic chronic writer, a haunted man
Mongrel monster with the murderers on conquered land
I grew around some johns is junkies with bumpkin scams
Bar brawls, broken bottles, banging, and launching hands
My shifty plans turn a risky chance to fifty grand
Double it, watch these sissies stand in your pissy pants
This game is gettin' me baptized, we bad guys
Choose sides and yous guys is enemies or allies
La Coka Nostra is A Brand You Can Trust
To roll with a pack of animals, with cannons to bust
We got the heat for the streets
The bag for the drop
The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
The move and the shake
The move and the wake
Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate
We got the heat for the streets
The bag for the drop
The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump
The move and the shake
The move and the wake
Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate
Written by: Daniel O'Connor, Erik Schrody, George Carroll, Leor Dimant, William Braunstein
