Luyện nghe bài hát Poetry In The Streets (Remix)

(Necro)
Poetry in the remix
brand new verse
and Ill Bill

The press, the tape records the bloody mess
documentations of the human race, can study
they'll reach in your TV speaker
feature
a creature that'll ya to death, if he can meet ya
your executed when your
who's responsible for a homeless man dead
and putrid
we murdered your flesh after bein thrown in a river
you'll be frozen forever into a statue of
a in the lab dead
in the head
knives are like the hands of a
jabbin your till you wrapped them and bled
throw you off a
killin off your
drillin' holes in your corpse till your the colour vermillion
i'll split brains
slit your veins
the impact of a bat cracked your back
is gettin hit by a train
i'll a fang in your blood bank
then
my shangle
you the triangle
of an angle
I think my shit's too brutal for
I might be the only one capable the dose
you won't a screw driver driven inside your throat
choke on blood and saliva kaniver croaks

Remix!

It's poetry in the streets of the big
and a vitality found in few other
but beneath the surface of the city
and you shall uncover a steamin of human emotion

gun sour, a planet, where
that reality
the brutality
its poetry in the of the big apple
you get
and grappled to the floor, slaved up and shackled

I spit on your grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your
grind you into slop meat and serve you to your
we movin bad
brutal shootin rampage
turnin humans to
doobies to crack
and that lactate,
squirtin mad milk, i have guilt
i krills, i'll have you fags killed
in front of your mom and dads
splatterin both of
with pieces of your explodin
brain fragments stainin' red
i make you the pain, it hurts
we make music for drug addicts, pieces of shit, that love the
its
i'm havin a rifle shot at you
we not the type smile at you
we the type that at you
your throat with the broken bottle
pieces of jagged glass stabbin' you your fuckin eyeballs
have you swallowin cyanide die whores
kill your physical first, your minds lost
you in the funeral home you make a fine corpse
got you splattered the walls when my nine talks
murder you style like a crime boss
through time and terminate you like a cyborg
my mentality's core

It's poetry in the of the big apple
and a vitality found in few places
but beneath the surface of the city
and you uncover a steamin sesspool of human emotion

Remix!

gun sour, a planet, where
that reality
witness the
its in the streets of the big apple
you get
and grappled to the floor, white slaved up and

New Verse!

Rescue crews show care for the
they'll stick with but once death is claimed
show disregard for the victim
you command respect when your but once you
die your reduced to a nusense a gruesome sight
to the eye driven a taxi is a dangerous
you might up the grim reaper the passenger
all taxi drivers fear a might put a gun
in your ear and end your with the twitch of
a finger it happens all year you into respiratory
the fire men are pumpin your chest and hope in restoring your breath no ones immune to dyin' in you disagree you're lyin to urself in time everything living's history