(Verse One)
“…The largest, darkest, hard shit artist…”
Compared even to thug, scar flesh…Ravagin’ wack fucks/
Damagin’ amps plus, the flare, leavin' ya plug, sparkless-
Woofer establishment, un-levitated when crash through/
Took it for bandaging done extra breakage at last who?-
Look to extravagant lungs decorated a rad dude!/
Shook & ya’ grabbin' the gun! Yes I’m hated ‘cuz past rude
John Walker Lindh put ear to my demo & learned somethin’/
Ever had a speaker case eat yer face? Your turns comin’!-
Meet ya’ maker, certain to toss dirt on ya’ cross/
The beats an acher, hurtin’ the soft-
Hesitant, them, frantic, left with dim, limp, antics/
When audibly slaughterized by weapons for tympanic-
Extort the mice in man, in the stomach his nut’s‘ll sit/
What a gift, panties in the muff a bit with just a pinch of-
Rugged shit ain’t lovin’ it? A fuck I give! Sinful track the psalm/
Pimp’ll back of palm, give Christ the hand!-
(CHORUS – 2 X’s)
Quite an audible frown, wonder who's the reaper?/
Try to follow the cloud, sun is coolin’ weaker-
I can swallow a town, dump it to my keester with the/
Diabolical sound, comin' through ya’ speaker-
(Verse Two)
…The ground shakes, as my sound makes an entrance/
Frequencies formulate, swarm & take captive your senses-
Rain often ensues when I’m listen to intensity of Heavy metal/
To aspiring emcee becoming God-like…Already devil-
Far my privilege reachith…Free to absorb whatever/
Form I see fit if believe it needed & able to conceive it-
Skills not exactly joy-fitted…Unholy deity being/
I was blessed with creativity…But destroy with it!-
Thought to be hallucination when envisioned horned being/
Choking winged one over scapula until puke was taken-
Now each time my microphone is shelved…I’m reminded/
Evil exists over BOTH shoulders…Cloned it’s self!-
Through music exercise malignancy…Hit ALL until/
Standing no taller than dust, my life’s contingency-
When hungry radios are vacuums, black holes to extract souls/
Reverse disperse bad wounds, attack tunes of a madd coon!-
Quite an audible frown, wonder who's the reaper?/
Try to follow the cloud, sun is coolin’ weaker-
I can swallow a town, dump it to my keester with the/
Diabolical sound, comin' through ya’ speaker-
(Verse Three)
How could one harness this form…Maybe Lucifer couldn’t/
Exist in 2 places at once, thus Carnage was born-
Sworn in, during, thunder & storming after wondrous torment/
Sent to indefinite resting, awaken by blunderous Mormon-
Not his intension…Molested by priest, angrily recited/
Backwards Lords Of Chaos readings, alternate dimension-
Extension was conjured, dropped book, to ground fell/
Room overcastted, Boom! Blown to ashes! Found hell!-
…Could legend have it as well I sat in a jail after/
Selling 2 by 4’s a barb wire headband and a package of nails?-
Was caught window shopping while Virgin Mary was disrobing/
With fantasies of groping, neck roping, anal probing?-
Fool nuts holdin’, chokin’ fuck tool, such cool harlots/ Undressed & caressed, obsessed with the flesh…Much drool?-
Exorcism useless, stoned, called to audition in heated venue/
NOW given chance to tell it in stereo? To be continued!-
(Chorus)
Quite an audible frown, wonder who's the reaper?/
Try to follow the cloud, sun is coolin’ weaker-
I can swallow a town, dump it to my keester with the/
Diabolical sound, comin' through ya’ speaker-
Comin’ Thru Ya’ Speaker was written by Carnage The Executioner.
Comin’ Thru Ya’ Speaker was produced by Bob Lindberg & Cheap Cologne.