Luyện nghe bài hát Poetry In The Streets (Remix)

(Necro)
Poetry in the streets
brand new third
and Ill Bill

The press, runs the tape records the bloody
documentations of the race, can study death
they'll reach in your TV speaker
they'll
a that'll beat ya to death, if he can meet ya
your when your electrocuted
who's for a homeless man thats dead
and putrid
we your natural flesh after bein thrown in a river
you'll be forever into a statue of death
a in the lab dead
stabbed in the
knives are like the hands of a
jabbin your flab you wrapped them and bled
you off a building
killin off children
drillin' holes in your till your spillin' the colour vermillion
i'll split your
i'll slit your
the impact of a bat across your back
is like gettin hit by a
i'll stick a fang in your bank
strangle
my shangle
you like the
piece of an
I think my too brutal for most
I might be the only one capable the dose
you survive 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 uncover a steamin sesspool of human emotion

gun sour, a planet, where
that reality
witness the
its poetry in the of the big apple
you get
and grappled to the floor, white 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 friends
we bad taste
another brutal rampage
turnin to ashtrays
to crack slaves
and boobies lactate,
squirtin mad milk, i have guilt
i have krills, i'll have you killed
in front of mom and dads grill
splatterin of them
pieces of your explodin head
brain fragments clothing red
i you love the pain, it hurts
we make music for addicts, pieces of shit, that love the dirt
its
i'm like havin a shot at you
we not the that smile at you
we the type that at you
slit your with the broken bottle
pieces of jagged glass stabbin' you through fuckin eyeballs
have you swallowin screamin die whores
kill your physical first, next minds lost
you in the funeral home you make a fine corpse
got you splattered across the when my nine talks
murder you execution style a crime boss
travel through time and you like a cyborg
my mentality's core

It's poetry in the 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
that reality
the brutality
its in the streets of the big apple
you get
and to the floor, white slaved up and shackled

New Verse!

Rescue crews care for the living
they'll stick with them but once is claimed
paramedics show for the victim
you command respect when your but once you
die your reduced to a nusense a gruesome sight
to the eye a taxi is a dangerous career
you might pick up the grim reaper the
all taxi drivers fear a might put a gun
in your ear and end your life with the of
a finger it happens all you goin 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