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lirik lagu diabolic - hidden track

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[intro – immortal technique:]

oh y’all mothaf-ckas thought it was over huh? but it’s not, you didn’t count on a fallen angel gettin’ back into the grace of god and coming after you. y’all n-ggas ain’t sh-t. your producers ain’t sh-t. your f-ckin’ a&r ain’t sh-t. i will f-ckin’ wipe my -ss with your demo deal. yo diabolic, take this mothaf-cka’s head off!!

[verse 1 – diabolic:]

go ahead and grip glocks, i’ll snap your trigger finger in six spots
you’ll have to lip lock <--(?), with hyperdermic needles to l!ck shots i'll watch you topple flat, put away your writtens and holla back can't freestyle, you're screwed off the top like bottle caps beneath the surface, i'm over-heatin' your receiver circuits by unleashin' deeper verses than priests speak in churches but your preach is worthless, you worship, defeat the purpose like president bush takin' bullets for the secret service beyond what y'all fathom, i sh-t on cats and jaw tap 'em show no comp-ssion like havin' a straight faced -rg-sm tour jack 'em, have his half a ten b-tch suck my friend's d-ck in the meantime, you can french kiss this clenched fist diabolic, a one man brigade, spreadin' cancer plague just f-ckin' a p-ssy's face, holdin' a hand grenade so if i catch you bluffin', f-ggot, you're less than nothing i just had to get that stress off my chest like breast reduction [verse 2 - immortal technique:] you mothaf-ckas are nothing, you cannot harm me i'll resurrect every aborted baby, and start an army storm the planet huntin' you down, cause i'm on a mission to split your body into a billion one celled organisms immortal technique'd destroy your religion, you stupid b-tch you're faker than blue eyed crackers nailed to a crucifix i'm 'bout to blow up like nasa challenger computer chips -rs-nic language transmitted revolutionarily i'm like time itself, i'm gonna k!ll you inevitably chemically bomb you, f-ck using a chrome piece i'm illmatic, you won't make it home like jerome's niece i'll sever your head diagonally for thinkin' of dissin' me and then use your dead body to write my name in calligraphy this puppet democracy, brainwashed your psychology so you're nothing like diversity, without equality and your crew if full of more f-ggots than greek mythology using numerology to count the people i sent to heaven produces more digits than twenty-two, divided by seven you like kevin sp-cey, your style is usually suspect you never k!lled a cop, you not a mothaf-ckin' thug yet your mind is empty and sp-cious, like the part of the brain that appreciates culture in a racist face it, you too basic, you never gonna make it like children walkin' thru antarctica b-tt-naked


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