Luyện nghe bài hát Poetry In The Streets (Remix)

(Necro)
Poetry in the remix
new third verse
Necro and Ill

The press, runs the tape the bloody mess
documentations of the human race, can death
they'll in through your TV speaker
feature
a creature that'll ya to death, if he can meet ya
your executed when electrocuted
who's responsible for a homeless man dead
and putrid
we murdered natural flesh after bein thrown in a river
you'll be frozen forever into a statue of
a grasshopper in the lab
in the head
knives are like the of a crab
jabbin your flab till you them and bled
throw you off a
killin off children
drillin' holes in your corpse till your spillin' the colour
i'll split your
i'll slit your
the impact of a bat cracked across back
is like hit by a train
i'll a fang in your blood bank
strangle
my shangle
you like the
of an angle
I my shit's too brutal for most
I might be the only one capable the dose
you won't survive a screw driver inside your throat
choke on blood and saliva another croaks

Remix!

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

gun sour, a planet, nightmares
that become
the brutality
its poetry in the of the big apple
you get
and grappled to the floor, white slaved up and

I spit on grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your face
grind you into slop meat and you to your friends
we movin bad
another brutal rampage
turnin humans to
doobies to crack
and boobies lactate,
squirtin mad milk, i never guilt
i have krills, i'll have you fags
in front of mom and dads grill
both of them
with pieces of your explodin
brain fragments stainin' red
i make you love the pain, it
we make music for drug addicts, of shit, that love the dirt
its
i'm like a rifle shot at you
we not the type smile at you
we the that bite at you
your throat with the broken bottle
pieces of jagged glass stabbin' you through fuckin eyeballs
have you cyanide screamin die whores
kill your physical first, next your minds
leave you in the funeral you make a fine corpse
got you splattered across the walls when my nine
murder you execution like a crime boss
travel through time and terminate you a cyborg
my grind core

It's in the streets of the big apple
and a vitality found in few other
but look beneath the surface of the
and you shall uncover a steamin sesspool of emotion

Remix!

gun sour, a planet, nightmares
become reality
witness the
its poetry in the of the big apple
you get
and grappled to the floor, white slaved up and

New Verse!

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