i could of grabbed this microphone i d beat your brains out with it because that s what you deserve that s what you deserve cruger might appear while your sound asleep till your no longer sound and you shout and scream so loud it seems to wake every house in reach even the last one down your street found your dreams got you so afraid of day made your brain stay away for about a week with as much courage as courage the cowardly dog would have in the night of the howling beast i carry a raven around with me that sits on my kreuger glove like a falcony now i see through the eye it ripped out and keeps in its mouth dangling it down its beak clown mcs like icp when i say you make the crowd bounce i mean leave beats me how anyone could beat me dont bite my tongue i am one of the men behind the sun get ready to die prepare for genocide the end is nigh my son get with the times our time has come hide run from the men behind the sun weve raised the bar us blaze cigars sitting around a table with dogs playing cards we aint for the feint at heart keep kids locked in an attic i drop explicit imagery like the prophet mohammed only 19 but my mind is older every day i dont get blood i get colder when i say my life is over im not depressed lonely or dead since i saw two holes in my neck now murder is my only intent but this aint mouth to mouth im sucking a soul from the chest once you show disrespect theres no going back ill brand my name on your head and put it in my bowling bag lines cut em throw up your us we make music that turns heads and stomaches too we got jak up in this the men behind the sun and well call you every name under it  somebody sign me quick wait the virus did electric circuit circa 96 ive been sick behind the blinds of i v drip hiding from sunlight inside the crib rhymey shit like a file of mad scientists surrounded by dead chinese chicks king of the addicts whos a bigger looser and who is not ive been to more rehabs than robert downey jr i can bench press a buick my adrenaline can fuel an ox i murder rappers to soothing sounds of an open music box its not the substance in the tunes i drop its the burial ground of dead animals under the back porch and confuse my mom and my room is stocked penethol juices nylon nooses knots q tip syringe toolkit box body refuse disinfectants peroxcide usage stopped my motives so sick the way i kill will be an art the new kids mock ligature bruises used to had to change it twice for the knee deep levels of stool and puke em up its not to i beat ya smash tom toms spit with that cafe khufu hookah ha get ready to die prepare for genocide to end this night my sun get with the times our time has come hide run from the men behind the sun never before has such evil villainous scum recorded such a masterpiece