Luyện nghe bài hát Poetry in the Streets - The Ill Billy Boys

(Necro)
Uh
Peep the shit
Death murder rap

it
The press, runs the tape the bloody mess
of the human race, can study death
They'll in through your TV speaker
feature
A creature that'll ya to death, if he can meet ya
executed when your electrocuted
Who's responsible for a homeless man that's
And smells
We murdered your natural flesh bein thrown in a river
You'll be frozen into a statue of death
A in the lab dead
Stabbed in the
Knives are like the of a crab
Jabbin your flab till you wrapped and bled
you off a building
Killin off children
Drillin' holes in your corpse till your spillin' the colours of a
split your brains
I'll slit your
The impact of a bat across your back
Is like hit by a train
I'll stick a fang in your blood
strangle
My bangle
You the triangle
of an angle
I think my shit's too for most
I might be the only one digesting the dose
You won't survive a screw driver inside your throat
Choke on blood and saliva another croaks

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 sesspool of human emotion
Gun sour, a planet, nightmares
That reality
the brutality
Its in the streets of the big apple
You get
And grappled to the floor, white up and shackled
I spit on grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your face
Grind you into slop meat and serve you to your
We bad taste
Another shootin rampage
Turnin humans to
Doobies to crack
And that lactate,
mad milk, i never have guilt
I have krills, i'll have you fags
In front of mom and dads grill
Splatterin both of
pieces of your explodin head
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 havin a rifle at you
We not the that smile at you
We the type that at you
Slit throat with the broken bottle
Pieces of jagged glass stabbin' you through your fuckin
Have you swallowin cyanide die whores
your physical first, next your minds lost
Leave you in the funeral home you make a fine
Got you splattered across the with my nine tongs
Murder you style like a crime boss
Travel time and terminate you like a cyborg
My grind core