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lirik lagu concepthiphop – death instinct

[verse 1]
i got cheese beneath my nuts, sl-t, i don’t like to bathe/
i’m hairy cuz my wrists are busy using my blades/
i jerk off so much that my hands need a shave/
in first grade i smacked my teacher; “b-tch ill never behave!”/

i’m a raunchy motherf-cker sh-t go dig me a grave/
-i want you to strangle me while i m-st-rbate-/
and lay me in my box turned around in a way/
that if they dig me up they’ll see my f-cking -ss in their face/

i was only ever bullied by one guy and he p-ssed me off/
but i ain’t give a f-ck enough to think i’m ganna k!ll him: naw/
i never thought to tie him down and slit his wrists with scissors of/
course i did cuz shooting up a school is unoriginal/

if i was a k!ller i’d put a bomb up in my stomach/
and shoot my self the head while i’m standing in public/
or slit my throat or something so everyone would come runnin/
and that’s the only time i’d get to using a gun sh-t,/

i’m interested to see what it’d be like to die in different ways/
i could slit my throat and set a bomb up so it’s in a way/
that i would bleed to death and then blow up with like three seconds left/
i k!lled my self in two ways, with one verse now i’m finished. brapp/

[hook]
now everybody on earth got an instinct of death/
the same way ya live ya got an instinct for breath/
my knives got an instinct of cutting my chest/
i’d k!ll myself but can’t decide which way would be best/
i got a death instinct (uh-huh)
i got a strong f-cking death instinct (uh-huh x2)
a mothaf-ckin death instinct (uh-huh)
i said a strong f-ckin death instinct (uh-huh x2)

[verse 2]
i got a strong instinct to think a-bout ways i could die a lot/
like when i’m standing on a roof smokin up a lot of of pot/
like ‘what would it be like if i just f-cked it all and belly flopped/
jumped off, in love with books, get it? i fell for stories! i’m/

a nasty motherf-cker cuz i don’t care what you think/
i’d call ya girl a sl-t and look at you “she’s coming with me”/
i walk down ya street to kidnap and slap an mc/
pin him to a chair with nail guns for not blastin at me/

like f-ck, “you wanna be dead or something? shoot me in the head or something/
cut me, sl-t do something! just don’t stand there screaming, doing nothing/”
fight back, struggle, here ill even give you knives to f-ck with/
no? aight my knives are sharpened sit down b-tch and lets get started/

[verse 3]
comin through with your lacoste on from harverd u/
ya sl!ck talk but you ain’t watched a mothaf-cka get schooled/
ill cross ya off on the cross walk markin ya shoes/
i’m stomping and i ain’t ever got a mark or a bruise/

i ran up into parliament: bomb in my -ss with/
c4 stick light, sh-t, then blow you to fragments/
it’s in ya home town so ya know that it crackin/
murder 30 thousand somewhere else an nothing will happen/

an instinct to fill sinks with blood from these slit things/
it’s dripping, i’m sickening, ya kids still be listening/
get piercings on weird things, my d-ck through ya ceiling/
when living on the floor above you, sorry if you hear screams/

i get up in thick sl-ts for six bucks ya heard of me?/
i chase bugs and slay c-nts until it f-cking burns to pee/
i make cuts in eight blunts; become the death of chivalry/
than face plant again man ain’t’ all you b-tches sick of me?/

- lirik lagu concepthiphop

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