Necro Butcher Knife Lyrics

[Hook]
One for the butcher knife, two for the glock!
(You can't kill me, cause I'm already dead)

[Necro]
Peep my little friend his name is M one six
I got the butcher, knife, to cut your f___in' heart out for kicks
I'm on a killing spree, like a n____ named Manson
Write a rhyme on your grave kid, it's where I'll be dancin'
The cha cha, you try to flex and I shot ya
Ten to the head, and now you're m_________in' brain dead
Mad moonies need mad clips
I got more rubber in my glock than artificial hips
So now you're dead kid
Cause you f___in bled kid
Every time I shot you in your m_________in' head kid
When you call my suicidal hotline
I'll tell you to blow your f___in' brains out with a tek-9
Blowin off your lips is somethin I promote
So light up an M-80 and shove it down your f___in' throat
The rougher, the more you suffer, I'm the messiah
My rhymes are thicker, than the afro on Richard Pryer
So f___, f___ f___ f___
If you step to the corpse than your goin' to catch a buck
You stupid f___
Check out the way to beat grooves
They call me h____, cause I f___ anything that moves
My f___ed up rhymes are sure to offend ya
So I'll drive over your body like the n____z from toxic avenger
Rip out your brain through your nose
And when a girl comes over I got a whole selection of d____s
So die m_________er die
And don't ask me why punks get bruised up like Soleil Moonfry
I rock a house party like Molile
And I f___ed a dead corpse to techno, cause I'm a necrophile
So if you're warm ca-ca, get with this
If not i'll bust out my d___, and p___ in your esophagus
I drank a blood donor's deposit
Now Moony's out like a f__get that just came out of the f___in' closet

[Hook]
One for the butcher knife, two for the glock!
(You can't kill me, cause I'm already dead)

[Goretex]
Check one, two, I got clout like a mortician
I got more fresh body parts than Dama's kitchen
A lime to a lemon, a lemon to a lime
I rock a dead n____ skin every time I drop my rhyme
The storm troopers in death gear, that's how it flows
No one knows, I want your money and your clothes
I stink like s__, I rob b____es welfare checks
And I rob more cribs than Malcolm X
Yes it's the butcher with more d___ than Clark
I love to bash b____es on the head in central park
Position, sicko, infamous junkie
A tek-9 connected to my spine shows I'm funky
The fridge is filled with fresh killed body parts
The n____z who dissed me, the b____es who broke my heart
Now I'm mista murder
The d____ inserter
Baptized in blood I'm the celebate converter
Ain't misbehaven
Sick like Wes Craven
I'll open your mom's legs, v_____'s unshaven
Bitin' the heads off gocks like Ozzy Osborne
Dead celebrities, with the Children of the Corn
The butcher block glock rock scream until you die
Goretex put me in the chair till I fry

[Hook]
One for the butcher knife, two for the glock!
(You can't kill me, cause I'm already dead)

[Ill Bill]
The official distorted body parts chop-a-chops your body
Piece by m________in' piece
Then I study the anatomical breakdown of the human physique
The blood suckin freaks speaks then you drop the sea
Need I say more? Maybe I do these days
I be grabbin up my glock whenever me and my crew
Step into a n____ pullin' the trigger in this area
Territories all occupied by hysteria
And it gets scarier by the minute
Cause I got n____z screamin' just like a b____ at the abortion clinic
d___ed if I do, d___ed if I don't
I'll f___ a pregnant b____ up her a__ after I slit her throat
And throw her body off of the roof top
Chop chop, then drop pieces, dead celebrities releases
The mostess grossest, sicker than multiple cirrhoses
Mumbo jumbo, even your brain's hopeless
Cause there's no hope when the camouflage is comin' at ya to get ya
food faced mask and two boots, the fracture
Your f___ing face takes my size twelve
Mr. Ill Bill is coming straight from hell
To f___ up a felon no turning back, my gat crack
With hollow tips my tek rips then flips my stack, a f___in rap
After the blood spoke I smoke another
After I step up your pops I f___ your mother
Yeah, I'll hit the f___in' puss with my p____
More fractured a chump drop adidas when my meat hits
Between, b___ cheeks, t__ties, and c___ lips
My c___ sticks gross
After my j__m jumps that's all she wrote
Cause I'm f___in detected from the puss to my r_____
Eye sockets to ear drums a deviated septum
Pull out the glock shoot the b____ with my glock
Collect my props, then Bill's out like acid rock

[Hook]
One for the butcher knife, two for the glock!
(You can't kill me, cause I'm already dead)