Luyện nghe bài hát Demon Executor

Comin' out the dirty bay area, Cali, it's the demon throw slasher,
lyrical y-dasher, the bible passer, quick to blasher, with my of tech-
rhyme sprayin' bullets the top of the mime cause I'm the lyrical,
miracal, teacher, Nicaragua street preacher, who's out to reach you.
Group of thugs who some the X-Generation, through penetration of lyrical
bullets of salvation, so bring the roughest and demons be screamin'
wanna start dumpin' and jumpin' like a gang initiation. Huh, who wanna
mess with the craziest of em' all demons bringin' all and bang your head
a teatherball, ain't none a y'all finned to me, watch me gospel hip-hop
till' the day the casket drop, wa-la. That's right, 1997, the Demon
up in this peace, I'm gonna kill all demons!

Throw yo' way up in the air, that's the sound of the electric chair,
that's the sound of screamin' fo their life and I'm the demon executor
hittin' the tonight.

I told you once I be the demon head choppa, the droppa, the glak-cocka,
the Mr. to hit em' up like 2-Paca. The demon body bag zipper-upper, the
demon bucker, the one who got and beans on his plate for supper. I be
the nuttiest one in the whole clan with Mac Town, switchblades and held
in both hands. Yes, I am- deciphorus, ludious, craziest, killer within'
the California mile radius. Chick, Chick, glak-cock, ready to drop,
demons anywhere I don't pistols in the air, ready to flare. I ain't in
to set trippin, blood crippin, instead I'm in to bible
rippin' flippin' lyrics like a quarter in the air call it heads or
tails, from the hood up to no good. It's the body chocka, the mike-
stocka, the Mr. Put you in cement to throw you off a droppa. I be the
man never puffin' on the booda, I'm the Texas chainsaw havin' executor.
Hey, bone, these bustas told me you rap. Man, let me show em' what's
up dawg!

Boyz 2 Men, I got demons on bended knee, beg n' plea. 'Cause I kill more
demons than Carmen got a whole bunch of them dodell peas. I'm the demon
executor straight out of Frisco with Giants and Niner Gear head to toe,
oh, you didn't know? I be the demon neck choker, the smoker, the Mr.
Demon Columbian Neck Tie get provoka. Repepermmeniti I'm ready to jack
demons, ain't got no hope, gettin' up out my sythoscope. So blam, blam,
comin on, blam to dem 4, me comin' up out the West like Mr. Shikur. Who
wanna be sweatin' it, it' cause O.R.C. comin' out with the lyrical
mafeeoso style you can't believe. Till the day I die, I'm up Jesus
Christ, demon executor fo life! That right! No, for though, how you
gonna stuff the bone? I got your partner!
dialogue
Lyrics by
Submitted by Woodrum ([email protected])