Stuck On Sick by SCUM (USA)
Stuck On Sick by SCUM (USA)

Stuck On Sick

SCUM (USA) * Track #8 On Only Bodies Left Behind

Stuck On Sick Lyrics

[Intro: SCUM]
From Moscow, Russia to Denver, Colorado
From the 095 all the way to the 303
It's that lowlife SCUM with that motherfucking Lyrical Snuff sickness that y'all love to hate
This that Gorehop shit bitch, uh

[Verse 1: SCUM]
Bitch I'm fiending for the sickness like a junkie fiends for crack
Like if you must hit the plastic I must hit you with the TEC
When I do I get a woody like your brother flesh his kids
Just like Bush who kills Iraqis, no regret about my deeds
'Cause I'm doing them a favor when I take their fucking life
Let them taste the murder flavor as I shake 'em with a knife
Got 'em face down on the concrete like a puzzle, guess who's who
Cut your head off like them errands, what the fuck you gonna do?
Like a virus with no cure, it's like whoever's in my way
Like some insects I'ma spray 'em with the lead from my AK
Like a groupie, I'ma fuck 'em, buck 'em with the twelve gauge slug
Crack your chest, get passed untested like your new prescription drug
Pop you like a fucking cherry, merry Christmas, go meet Christ
Leaving bodies stacked, no footprints every time I pull a heist
Fool I'll kill you for your money, if your broke you die for free
Bringing death just like the reaper, when you see me better flee

[Chorus: SCUM]
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage

[Verse 2: SCUM]
Pull intestines out your body like your dad just pulls your tooth
Wrap it around my fucking forearm then I push you off the roof
You will hang like the piñatas that the kiddies stuff with shit
Just like rain that’s certain sticky blood be dripping from the slit
Let you drop just like my uncle when he lost the Train of Death
Like I swim in your fedoras, then cut off and took your head
Wrapped it up in burning paper like a fucking burning gift
Set it on your parent's doormat, and then your carcass I will swift
Ring the bell just like the mailman who don't have nothing to hide
Bet your mom will be all happy till she sees what's wrapped inside
Stopped my ride to find a handy, quench my thirst like Gatorade
Like a snowplow with the window drove right through and gave her aid
Hope I killed 'em, hope I hurt 'em, hope that some won't walk again
'Cause like Norman Bates or Michael motherfucker I'm insane
Like old folks who need their fingers, know that blood is what I need
Fucking ending some bystanders, smoking bitches like some weed

[Chorus: SCUM]
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage

[Verse 3: SCUM]
Pop the finger, fuck the trigger till the barrel comes with lead
Holy like a phone receiver, I'ma leave your fucking head
Laid out bleeding on the carpet like a hooker on the rag
Like the stuffing in your turkey, stuffed inside a bodybag
Fucked your mama like your daddy if you smoked some angel dust
And unload just like a buckshot in your gut I'm finna bust
And remember about protection like your bitch protect and serve
Serve her with some fucking strychnine then kick back while I observe
As her eyes come out her sockets like the crawfish getting boilied
As she's gagging, drooling, choking like she ate some food that spoiled
Bitch stop drinking like a kicker, one that didn't make the draft
As I dig through her belongings trying to get some cheese like crack
Got her purse, went through the cheddar just like out the ATM
And I saw your little brother walking in, my Glock went bang
Didn't jam and so I dropped him, popped him like a fucking cig
When I laugh just like a field goal, kicked your mama, sign your tit

[Chorus: SCUM]
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage

[Bridge: SCUM]
Years pass like they were hours and I slowly mellow out
With no doubt I'm fucking changing and it makes me wanna shout
Denver lowlife back in business, filling up the acid bath
For your body or somebody else who cross my fucking path
Motherfuckers just weren't ready, still ain't ready for the gore
In the trunk up in my caddy, chopped up bodies be no more
Like before I'm still a psycho even though a lot have changed
Still disgusting when I'm busting, so sadistic and deranged

[Chorus: SCUM]
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage
I'm wrong, what I do is wrong, but it feels so good that I cannot stop
I'm sick, what I do is sick, I'ma swing my axe and you finna drop
I know what I do is ill, I'ma kill 'em all when I feel the rage
So chill, gotta make them still, and your blood will spill when I hit the stage

Stuck On Sick Q&A

Who wrote Stuck On Sick's ?

Stuck On Sick was written by SCUM (USA).

Who produced Stuck On Sick's ?

Stuck On Sick was produced by JAMEZ.

When did SCUM (USA) release Stuck On Sick?

SCUM (USA) released Stuck On Sick on Sun Jan 01 2006.

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