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lirik lagu goretex - electric lucifer

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i drink your blood intro:

let it be known to all the spirits, that i’m a capricorn, let it be known sons and daughters that satan was an acid head, drink from his cup, pledge yourselves!

verse 1:

the kid hashem you notice blood from the trail of dead
i stay high, f~ckin’ them b~tches to work [backwards]
i’m duckin’ feds, mausoleum under my bed
i gut you out from your lungs to the top of your head
coffin syrup with the a~1 yola, i got a trunk full
i’m out to lunch, my biggest dosive is when i f~ckin’ dump you
tearin’ your chest with that 12~gauge pump through
brain stew like fried dumplings work with a mickey rourke type cooks
that’s n0ble? cuttin’, face to a water fountain it’s tunnеl vision
watch it collapse like the alfrеd p. murrah building
i get it in like larry davis with 60 rounds
always make them fiends dance hard for rocks and bl~~dy gowns!
got a white slavery scan now they cabo wabo
i keep a hot teen in the projects like demi lovato
atm, she can take the whole fist to half a bottle
we squash bowels like street cleaner~controlled models
chorus x2:

i bring you heat, you don’t make ’em for your sins in church
we do it on the streets like we be destined, we k!ll the earth
they say i’m lucifer from starting with my date of birth
mental funeral, i’m electric, i reinvent the dirt

verse 2:

you wearin’ tight jeans and jeggings and leathers with feathers
liberace cats got husbands, hipster type of dresses
we bury you face down so yo’ homies recognize you
funeral mockery infrared like visine in yo’ eyes do
like aids in the 10th cycle, preservin’ your organs is vital
you get your heart stomped out quick, like bret michaels
jump in the dune buggy, death valley goon villa
the truest k!llers on one trigga with 2 fingers
happiness is a warm gun, this is goon business
i’m used to shippin’ corpses and bodies in tube shipments
transportin’ postmortem, this ain’t no closed coffin delicacies people are most [?] are f~ckin’ often
i get that freezer work, orders of torsos i brainwash the court
i’m tex watson cuttin’ your phone cords
h~rny to turn hippie chicks from women to court calls
i provoke war, goon cinema, re~open the dope store

chorus x2
verse 3:

my sh~t is raw, i got the modian off point 6
this is my war, demented retribution to moist pif
crash course in brain surgery, pound of an ousley?
gore scour up your veins like cocaine from broward county
some masterheads will get your showered up for f~ckin’ crowley
attributes constitute satan’s spirit around me
project candelabra, f~ckin’ with the baby mario bava
like lil’ boosie, victims get mauled under the chupacabra
ski mask in mid~june, blood on my gucci shoes
original goon, kid i gave birth just like iommi’s wounds
every 16 is an ancient room, from reverend tombs
to messenger of doom, bringin’ satan his food

chorus x2


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