FX (1997)

[Intro]
Crazy rhythm, they want effects, so effects is what we givin' [?]

[Verse 1: The R.O.C]
The black magic, my doll's trouble, a voodoo and wicked spells
I do all my scales on my brain bleeds bloody tales
Twisted tombs for many acts with a swingin' axe
Attacks any person that moves for or steps back
Relax, motherfuckers, the secrets lie on the souls that weep
Creep, so deep, it's fallin' way under nine feet
Have entrance to walk through my home sweet home
With fires burnin', you're yearnin' for another House of Krazees song
The R.O.C that is me, I'm takin' you on a trip
My nuts still draggin' like a ball and chain, my dick's the whip
You can't hide and you can't run from the sons of guns
That had yo ass screamin' look who's on the run
Come and get some of this, but watch yo shit
The clock has finally struck the hour for the killings, bitch
There's no illusions, just realism, the effects
All are tragic when you try to deal with 'em, I wig split 'em
Stick a, stick a nigga, boom click boom
I broke ya neck, who's next for the FX?

[Chorus]
FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX
FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX
(You want effects, so effects is what we givin')

[Verse 2: Mr. Bones]
Its the year, the year that we droppin' bombs
Feel the calm of fuckin' and sing along
With the jam, the minute you want to see
Mr. Bones, I pack the capacity
Lyrical style playing yo eardrums for a second
With the effects to break your necks with the wicked
Beats and drums surround and the fuckin' rhythm
Fatal thoughts of suicide is what Im givin'
To the migraine explodes on the track
In the night the demon was on yo back
Break it down, you're very well
Mental running in overdrive sacrifice on the hill
Listen close as Bones begins to wreck
And watch yo ass for the wicked ass FX

[Chorus]
FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX
FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX
(You want effects, so effects is what we givin')

[Verse 3: Hektic]
Mass illusionist, something extraordinarily strange
Home on deranged, you thought you could hang
You smell the blood of an [?] mental case
The time is now for you to try and leave this place
You turn the corner, unning down the hallway you see a door
You think it's nothing, you open it and fall right through the floor
There's no escape, and so live and let live
Begone, my spiritual anguish, won't even test the hellish spawn
My testimony sparks the hatred from you bastages
Wickedly macking I leave yo ass in bandages
[So whip yo rooster?] then leavin' with some broke necks
You can't fuck with the flicks check the FX