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 records the bloody
of the human race, can study death
they'll in through your TV speaker
feature
a that'll beat ya to death, if he can meet ya
your executed your electrocuted
responsible for a homeless man thats dead
and putrid
we murdered your natural flesh after thrown in a river
you'll be forever into a statue of death
a in the lab dead
in the head
knives are like the of a crab
jabbin your till you wrapped them and bled
you off a building
killin off children
drillin' holes in your corpse till your the colour vermillion
i'll split brains
i'll slit veins
the impact of a bat cracked your back
is gettin hit by a train
stick a fang in your blood bank
then
my mangle
you the triangle
of an angle
I think my shit's too brutal for
I might be the only one digesting the dose
you won't survive a screw driven inside your throat
choke on blood and saliva another kaniver

Remix!

It's poetry in the streets of the big
and a vitality in few other places
but look beneath the surface of the
and you shall uncover a steamin sesspool of human

gun sour, a planet, where
become reality
witness the
its poetry in the streets of the big
you get
and to the floor, white slaved up and shackled

I spit on your grave, in your mouth, and shit on your face
grind you slop meat and serve you to your friends
we movin bad
another shootin rampage
turnin to ashtrays
to crack slaves
and boobies lactate,
squirtin mad milk, i have guilt
i have krills, i'll you fags killed
in front of your mom and grill
splatterin both of
with pieces of explodin head
brain stainin' clothing red
i you love the pain, it hurts
we make music for drug addicts, pieces of shit, that love the
its
i'm like havin a rifle at you
we not the type that at you
we the that bite at you
slit throat with the broken bottle
of jagged glass stabbin' you through your fuckin eyeballs
have you cyanide screamin die whores
your physical first, next your minds lost
leave you in the funeral home you make a fine
got you splattered the walls when my nine talks
you execution style like a crime boss
travel time and terminate you like a cyborg
my grind core

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

Remix!

gun sour, a planet, nightmares
that become
witness the
its in the streets of the big apple
you get
and grappled to the floor, white up and shackled

New Verse!

Rescue crews show for the living
they'll stick with but once death is claimed
paramedics disregard for the victim
you command respect your alive but once you
die your reduced to a bloody nusense a gruesome
to the eye driven a taxi is a career
you might pick up the grim reaper the
all taxi fear a robber might put a gun
in your ear and end life with the twitch of
a finger it happens all year you goin into
arrest 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 history