Homicide Music

[Produced by Mixla Productions]

[Chorus: x2]
That’s that homicide music
That real Columbine music
Making your momma cry music
That real traumatized music

[Verse 1: Almighty U-Sorcerer]
This that homicide music, motherfucking crime rate
Bodies on the highway of the lightweights
Living in the world where niggas can’t kiss the sky
Without being shot by Scarface’s little guy
Already called manslaughter on your granddaughter
But the streets killed her before I got the honor
Nowadays, don’t know who to trust
Who to bust, who to have, who to love
Who to cut, who to cuff, cause my niggas losing touch, true enough
You psychopaths, is there a disorder in it?
You killing more children than an abortion clinic
Getting your gun customized, then ask to testify
Hoping that they think your murder justified?
You killing these brides straight out the bridal shops?
You giving other family members suicidal thoughts
Niggas out following all these leaders
Doc ain’t doing procedures, victim got amnesia
And then then he gets shot over a mamacita
That he don’t remember fucking in Indonesia
Body outlined in chalk
They said they heard shots at like 9 o clock
This evening, and the nigga ain’t breathing now
Bleeding out, and everybody else fleeing south
Identifying the body, no memberships
Inside that man body, found the entire extended clip
Wifey waiting at the house for a tender kiss
Woulda have a son that woulda been your son’s friend but you ended it
Killed for the hell of it
Now on CNN, no censorship
Closed casket, whole family remember him
Life bittersweet like a peppermint
Matter fact, life sour like lemonade
When I load the heavyweight, they gonna levitate

[Hook]

[Verse 2: gamemast15r]
I carry more arms on my body then Vishnu
Execution style, hollow points into your tissue
You’re gonna need more than just a rag to clean up all the blood
You smell of pussy, gotta clean the crime scene of the crud
I’m not an ATlien, just a psychopath from outer space
Death Star shit, will blast your body out of place
Art of War like Sun Tzu, fuck kung fu
Fuck questions, I shoot first; don't mess with the young fool
The chrome Glock will make you speak your mind, like a dome shot
You think I’d be infected with AIDS, because I’m so hot
I’ll rip out your fucking voice box if you ever think about callin’ out
I’m the ignorant motherfucker that Lauryn Hill was talkin’ bout
Bridge burning, under the influence of alcohol
The honky devil does bar fights while I go out to ball
I leave victims screaming foul shit like “what’s happening?”
Put bodies in a zip up bag, addictive like saccharine
You gon' get shot in the capillaries, the facts are scary
Cause I’m still the captain, and I could leave your clique capped and carried
I’m barging through, call me Gamezilla
The game killed ya, the aim is familiar
The pain is just realer, I'mma bring the flame to your grill son
Edge lord, keyboard warrior; dump you in the sea floor worried
That you’ll never survive, I couldn’t create a better demise
You got cheese? I get the cheddar with fries
Like fuck the lettuce and lie, I’m twenty four steps ahead of you guys
I should stop rapping I’m not African, just the devil’s advocate
Wild and Crazy Kid will always be my acronym, the biggest accident
The sadomasochist, bound to no motherfucking sacrament
I create rhymes that makes one want to take a life away
Life and death, murder rates part of life like night and day
Nowadays rap is better with cash and nectar
Until my rhymes drill into your mind, like Ice-T with Black N’ Decker

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Liiight]
It’s the head hunting honcho in a blood drenched poncho
Timbs stained with splattered brains you know the motto
Ask questions after wrecking I reckon
I’m the king with iron fists like Tekken
Pause the game long enough for me to step in
Wearing a Stetson and a black trench coat covering my Smif N Wesson
Vicious sinning kid
Shits gets more gory than Japanese syndicates
Arm leg leg arm head
Ship you to your parents that way so now they know you dead
Sipping lotus controlling locomotives
Steam roll through your house without a decent motive
Probably just to mash your buttons like a Sega controller
Hold it
Hold it over until I spill your guts
For spilling beans
Quick to cut a nigga on the scene
Raging on stage sit front row catch a Liu Kang to the face
Bitch can run his mouth but tell him run my fade
Hear the breath exit his throat Sweeney Todd with a blade
I’m the noblest knight so the dragon will be slayed
God damn
Slit jugulars and blood will be sprayed
I can keep it quiet but assassins must be payed
Hear the coins click kiss then act as if I’ve never played
No amount of absolution can take my sins away
Repent and pen away
Any feelings that you thought I had
Cold hearted monster eating meat straight off the slab
Anybody want my spot tell them come on and take a stab
No knife to a gun fight watch the revolver blast
Leave him alive but he gone need a coloscomy bag
But his homie is gone leave wrapped in plastic with a new toe tag
Good Lawd

[Outro]
Need your cries of fear
It's music to my ears (x3)
Yeah nigga, you's a dead motherfucker now