Lyrics

One, two Yeah Step inside the building and I'm walking like a killer Looking for the others, feeling that no one is iller Wrapping up the bodies then I lock them in the chiller Falling like Frazier when he lost it in Manila People always wanting us to go and kill the fakers off And I got the right ingredients to go make a bomb Show you in the thoughts when the blast tear your faces off You see me standing in the ashes when the flames are gone On the top floor, rifle in my grasp Plus there's another three snipers in the grass Pop your heads up while your driving in your car That's a massacre, now your brain is your passenger Aim it in your daytime, playlist the Merken Man Flippin on the daily, but I don't work at Burger King Up from the underground, stealth when we're surfacing Leaving you bloody pa, and all on your furnishings So sharp I cut silk in the river Leave your head gone before you see the shot, man, you will flicker As I paint a picture, deep in ancient China Throw smoke bombs so thick, you can't finda Picture in the background, bodies getting hacked down Heads falling off when we finally let the axe down Keep the ear to the ground, listening for the crickets Learn the art of war, now I sleep with the spirits Living stranger stands as the remainder, in danger See, the beat is my retainer I do the shogun a favor and save you Even a hundred man deep, watching way through See me chilling, brought the hot pot plate I need to fight you to the death like Hakuna Tate Watch the skies turn grey, when my ninjas creep up on ya Rip your heart out of your chest, just to feel your pain Slay with tongue, not the type to way from gun Hit your pressure points, walk away calm, don't run Always moving with my face to the sun Turn rolling around the time to the fake and begun Take the hits, right the names down Do this for the story that they tell when I came 'round Always high, but I never sat along the same ground Waiting for the rain clouds Wash away the footprints, travel through deranged towns Trained for combat, but really you on that? I see descending like a scene out of Ong-Bak There's no masters, no needing for contracts 'Cause people disappear overnight and don't come back Write the scriptures, what they depict is another loss for the London heart but we're the victors You get it? Blood is addictive On some sick shit, won't stop 'til there is no one on the hit list I'm killing slappers, kids, animals and rappers Cashing list pack of bulls, slapping off your sac puss I bring madness, with a dagger, I bring sadness Stare you in the eyes until you collapse into blackness In the garden shed I sit waiting Playing with my razor blade, and mate, I ain't shaving Scraping, bathing in the blood stains naked Playing chess with Ted Bundy's best mates hating Dreams of raping a boy band's member in the face I'm chopping of his bollocks with a spade There's not a lot of promise in my brain Like God, am I insane With a shotgun, I wander in the rain You ain't got one when I cop one in your face I blow your fucking long enough to ponder on the pain I take you shopping round the hospital of A. I. D. S. I ain't popular, I ain't wrong and I ain't stopping 'til the grave I assassinate, lacerate and decapitate Hack you up with racko rage, wrap you up in some cassette His body parts depicts the art and stop to fill in the plans today This man's insane, mad, deranged, assassin with a phantom face Target's on a creature back to cut them open, hand and face Body's down, the caught him squirming, kill them with a handgrenade like bang! 'Cause I'm a cold-blood killer Cold blooded, no fucking, don't crush it, full cut in Assassin with the passion for damaging man's anthem Holding him ransom, smacking him with hammers, he's lat blacker than Marilyn Manson Man's sleek, flashy, fancy, bare hitching handsome With things, kick boy hit a ramp, he banging but then dismantle I'm ambushing gangsters with standards I'm involving the bang with the hangers Go take a free Bible, we're burning the cash to ashes Quicker than rappers making the victims vanish Saving a trapper, we giving them a drink of waters I know it's liquid acid, that's dramatic Assassin hidden in the dark, here to take them out Trained in one Martial art, that's the dirty mouth Won't stop until there's big piles of bodies Smoke bombs disappear, collecting heads for a hobby Assassin hidden in the dark, here to take them out Trained in one Martial art, that's the dirty mouth Won't stop until there's big piles of bodies Smoke bombs disappear, collecting heads for a hobby
Writer(s): Thomas Conning, Joshua Adam Davey, James Warden Leigh, Alexander Gerrard Whitehead, James Oliver John Walton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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