Welcome

[Hook: DNA Tru Lyricist]
Welcome to the Bates Motel
Now you ain't got a face, oh well
Put down your suitcase and go and dwell
Around in your room for a bit
Checkout time is at noon, this is sick
Made ripgut type of shit, and I can fit
This ice pick in your eye right quick, yeah
I could get a little carried away, if you let me

[Verse 1: DNA Tru Lyricist]
I'm talking about bloody spaghetti, go grab the [?]
'Cause this a hefty situation you're facing
These two emcees you're facing, it'll phase ya
With a hockey mask on the face like Jason
Don't disturb me, I'm in a bloody bath bathing, okay?
Worst craving, eating up guts like raisin bread post bran
And most can't hang with it, get your brain splitted
You ain't shit, and this is that art craft
Asking where your heart's at
I bark but you ain't bark back, where the fuck your car parked at?
I'll be waiting in the back, maybe with an axe to split your whole face in two
Put you in the trunk, or there's plenty of space in my basement too
I'm lacing two shoes up, ready to scrap
But where he at? I drove all the way out here for nothing? Wack
You better show me something, bitch, don't waste my time
I need 20 dollars for a rhyme today, hey, who got me?
I'm just tryna get a Fortnite skin
Laugh all you want, but I'll stick this fork and knife in your hind
Then wind up in a barrel like Megan Is Missing
Begging to fix it, this that triple X flick shit
Sick, you gotta get this, you nitwits, this Tru Lyricist shit
And you can miss me with the sissy shit
Rip your top off like a pincer stick
You better get your kids to give you kisses, 'cause this is it

[Verse 2: MicSteam]
Time to check in to the Bates Motel
Kinda feel like I'm living in, well, maybe going through Hell
Feel like I can't breathe, maybe it's 'cause all of these chemtrails
Chopping up baby guts, make more stem cells
MicSteam the creep man, get to know him well
Or you might be the one sitting in the bottom of a well
Will I commence to make lamp shades?
Do I got you convinced, to me there's no shade?
DNA, could you hand me two hand grenades?
Yeah, I'm ready to blow myself up
What's the hold up? We been eating them up like cold cuts
Giving no fucks, look who showed up
Two sluts with no butts
Tryna keep my pole up, after I fuck 'em I fold 'em up
Let's go, do-si-do, dope with the flow
Knife up in my overcoat, leave 'em bleeding on the open road
It's the murder show
If I change shit up, you'd be the first to know
I hit you up on the face, look, you got a tag on your toe

[Hook: DNA Tru Lyricist]
Welcome to the Bates Motel
Now you ain't got a face, oh well
Put down your suitcase and go and dwell
Around in your room for a bit
Checkout time is at noon, this is sick
Made ripgut type of shit, and I can fit
This ice pick in your eye right quick, yeah
I could get a little carried away, if you let me