Luyện nghe bài hát Demon Executor

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

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

I told you once I be the demon head choppa, the droppa, the glak-cocka,
the Mr. Ready to hit em' up 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, and bibles held
in both hands. Yes, I am- deciphorus, ludious, craziest, demon within'
the California radius. Chick, Chick, glak-cock, ready to drop, drop
demons anywhere I care pistols in the air, ready to flare. I ain't in
to set trippin, blood crippin, instead I'm in to 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 cement to throw you off a droppa. I be the
man never puffin' on the booda, I'm the Texas chainsaw demon executor.
Hey, bone, these bustas told me you couldn't rap. Man, let me em' what's
up dawg!

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