Luyện nghe bài hát Demon Executor

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

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

I told you once I be the head choppa, the casket droppa, the glak-cocka,
the Mr. Ready to hit em' up like 2-Paca. The demon bag zipper-upper, the
demon bucker, the one who got demons and beans on his for supper. I be
the nuttiest one in the clan with Mac Town, switchblades and bibles held
in both hands. Yes, I am- deciphorus, ludious, craziest, killer within'
the California mile radius. Chick, Chick, glak-cock, to drop, drop
demons anywhere I don't care in the air, ready to flare. I ain't in
to set trippin, crippin, instead I'm in to mormanistic-satanic bible
lyrically flippin' lyrics like a quarter in the air call it heads or
tails, from the hood up to no good. It's the demon chocka, the mike-
stocka, the Mr. Put you in to throw you off a bridge droppa. I be the
man never puffin' on the booda, I'm the Texas chainsaw demon executor.
Hey, bone, these bustas me you couldn't 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 dumb- dodell peas. I'm the
executor comin' straight out of Frisco with Giants and Niner Gear to toe,
oh, you didn't know? I be the demon choker, the devil smoker, the Mr.
Columbian Neck Tie get provoka. Repepermmeniti I'm ready to jack these
demons, they ain't got no hope, up out my sythoscope. So blam, blam,
comin on, blam to dem 4, me comin' up out the West Mr. 2-Pac Shikur. Who
wanna be sweatin' it, wettin it' cause O.R.C. comin' out the lyrical
mafeeoso you can't believe. Till the day I die, I'm throwin' up Jesus
Christ, demon fo life! That right! No, for real though, how you
stuff the bone? I got your back partner!
then
Lyrics by
Submitted by Nick ([email protected])