Morticians

[Intro: Ras Kass]
This is something special
[?] carry judgement over the threshold

This is something special
[?] carry judgement over the threshold

[Verse 1: Ras Kass]
Shit always funny ’til somebody get hurt
That’s why I pimped on Eve and made Adam out of dirt
I’m able like Cain to leave a nigga slain
I ease up in your brain like cancer in an old man
Hey news, guess I’m addicted to the Beirut
Heavy on this holy water, Grey Goose and Jesus
Was hanging over [?]’s change like [?] noose
But America’s hypocrite can’t accept gay troops
[?], skinheads and hate Jews
Rest in peace, L, BIG, Eazy and my man Proof
Can’t respect a nigga who stay church mice and pump TECs
When a nigga die, you talk shit, ‘nough said
Punks jump up, east, south, north, west
Catch me upstate, beast mouth, Gore-Tex
Star Trek, Klingon coming out a vortex
Swear I merk every fucking rapper, bring on your best

[Hook: Kurupt]
How come you niggas is bitches?
Acting like you something you not, you fictitious
I am war, simple and plain vicious
Pop lead, Sid Vicious, we morticians

[Verse 2: Kurupt]
I’ll make these motherfuckers panic, I’m ignorant
A motherfucking ignoramus, elephant, elegant, excellence
That’s [?] and my bitch
Then it’s me again, motherfucker, I make you all panic
I channel your brainwaves
I got a specialty wholesale, I sell graves
Augusta gallops all across the plains, let Evander win
Or I’ll huff and puff and blow your house down
Tornado, NATO, Santa Ana winds
I’m illegal in the skies, I plummet the earth
I stomp like Sasquatch, the abominable thirst
The abomination Ceasar young Ebenezer
I saturate bodies with shotties and meat cleavers
Olly olly oxen three or catch you in the alley, cock and squeeze in the [?], [?]ing these
Banana babies, from Beijing with fun
Toolies to send you to Oz like Judy Garland, look
([Ras Kass]: click your heels twice, we are not in Kansas anymore)
I make these niggas panic

[Hook: Kurupt]
How come you niggas is bitches?
Acting like you something you not, you fictitious
I am war, simple and plain vicious
Pop lead, Sid Vicious, we morticians

[Verse 3: Killah Priest]
Lyrics more wicked than triple sixes and spirits to fishes
Rap [?] when you hear it horrified to far and wide
To the darker side, gothic skies and [?]s and knives
And guns and roses target Moses, young explosive
Run with soldiers ferocious, don’t slip that open
Provoking the omens and Romans, Trojan slogan
Jewish, Christian, Muslim
Thou shall not eat from the meat that's feet is cloven
As chosen as [?]
Barbarian, the bars'll of bury 'em
Scars and heavy skin, [?]s and deadly winds
Cigars for every sin, laugh at disaster
Last chapter is rapture
Light your fingers with [?]
Smash you in the mountains
Huffing like a falcon, the album will grab ya…

[Kurupt]: …like talons, go through your body like [?]

[Ras Kass]: bitch, walk on tight ropes, it’s all balance

[Killah Priest]: we in this for the violence

[Hook: Kurupt]
How come you niggas is bitches?
Acting like you something you not, you fictitious
I am war, simple and plain vicious
Pop lead, Sid Vicious, we morticians

[Verse 4: Canibus]
War college
False prophets get shot down with real rockets
Drone operators in the field with optics
Fighter jets barrel roll over a narrow road
Going so fast my head shape like a tadpole
I gotta learn to live with what I can’t control
My soul plays a substantial role
I’m in [?], Alabama
Told the bitch to make me a sandwich
Got that peanut butter jelly, going ham with the hammers
And ham radio scanners, smoking turtle with Santa
They keep asking, I ain’t got no answers
Still get it in, looking real young and handsome
([Ras Kass]: [?], you heard what Ras said)
Register your weapons
Voice command [?] record the session huh
False prophets never pay homage
Don’t get caught with your hand in the Central Bank pocket
The rap brotherhood fragment the so damn defensive
All doomed to an ignorant ending
Hip-hop your vision
Knowledge the wisdom, what is it?
Nothing more than a fatal contradiction

[Hook: Kurupt]
How come you niggas is bitches?
Acting like you something you not, you fictitious
I am war, simple and plain vicious
Pop lead, Sid Vicious, we morticians