STRAIGHT FROM THE MOTHER FUCKIN STREETS OF NORTHERN IRELAND!

[SpiderDiaze]

LOF: viewtopic.php?f=24&t=164193&p=2359066#p2359066


I stare at the devil through my reflection in the mirror
Voices flood my brain I’m neither a saint nor a sinner
My mind so fucked up all I think about is cold blooded murder
My mother feeding me anti psychotics for my evening dinner
I got off Jesus’s head with a pick axe, put religion on a desert island blew it with anthrax, exploding like a race war between the whites and the blacks
Invading the rap game without dropping bombs on Iraq
Being proud of my culture without damaging the reputation of the Union Jack
Locked in my bedroom not allowed out the house
Took to Hip Hop to try and escape like a wild mouse to the point where I commit crime ending up wearing a suit in a courthouse
Or in a crack house
To me people are like fleas
They make you itch and sneeze
They talk so much shit their breath smells like mouldy cheese
Watching my closest people flea like killer bees
While I’m alone struggling to breathe
Hoping for a better life like a mother of 3 Syrian refugee
Entering the rap game dropping an atomic bomb
Starting a war bloodier than the Battle of the Somme
Soldiers dying of blood loss on their shallow graves,
Governments using their people as government slaves
Leaders fleeing countries like Bin Laden into Middle Eastern caves
Typing my rhymes so fast before the last thing I hear is the sound of a gun blast
Rhymes so dark and deep I make them to last,
Through civil wars and terrorist attacks like what have gone on in the past
My rhymes are like cockroaches they survive nuclear attacks
Our people stick together yeah that includes the Whites, Asians, Arabs, Hispanics and the Blacks
Coming out calling me in your raps is just asking yourself to fall inside my booby traps
I’ll drop the mic
Pull out my mother’s steak knife
Slicing open your jugular
blood pouring out like an ice cold tap, leaving you with loss of memory, confused like our children reading 18th century Roman maps
My raps are Horrorcore that’s why the public and government fear me
Rhymes more scary than a Wes Craven 1990’s horror movie
I knocked out Stephen King with a Muay Thai flying knee
And left Justin hanging from a tree in Mississippi when he found out Selena blew me
I warned my music isn’t for the faint hearted
You blast my music I won’t be disheartened
Knock me down I’ll rise back up like blood rushing to a dick hardening
Tie myself to a cross and set it on fire in a catholic priests garden as the sky darkness
Next time don’t say my lyrics are harmless
It’s left several armies and terrorists completely armless