Текст пісні некро і илл білла Poetry in the streets remix

Poetry in the streets remix

Brand new third verse

Necro and Ill Bill

NECRO

The press runs the tape records the bloody mess

Documentations of the human race, can study death

They'll reach in through your TV speaker They'll feature A creature

that'll beat ya to death, if he can meet ya

Your executed when your electrocuted Who's responsible

for a homeless man that's dead And smells putrid

We murdered your natural flesh after bein thrown in

a river You'll be frozen forever into a statue of death

A grasshopper in the lab dead Stabbed in the head

Knives are like the hands of a crab Jabbing your flab till you wrapped them and bled

Throw you off a building Killing off your children

Drilling holes in your corpse till your spilling the colours of a million

I'll split your brains I'll slit your vains

The impact of a bat cracked across your back Is like getting hit by a train

I'll stick a fang in your blood bank Then strangle

My shangle bangle You like the triangle Piece of an angle

I think my shit's too brutal for most

I might be the only one capable digesting the dose

You will not survive a screw driver driven inside your throat

Choke on blood and saliva another kaniver croaks

Remix!

CHORUS

It's poetry in the streets of the big apple

And a vitality found in few other places

But look beneath the surface of the city

And you shall uncover a steaming cesspool of human emotion

Gun sour, a planet, where nightmares

That become reality Witness the brutality

Its poetry in the streets of the big apple You get tackled

And grappled to the floor, white slaved up and shackled

ILL BILL

I spit on your grave, piss in your mouth, and shit on your face

Grind you into slop meat and serve you to your friends

We moving bad taste Another brutal shooting rampage

Turning humans to ashtrays Doobies to crack slaves

And boobies that lactate, Squirting mad milk,

i never have guilt I have krill's, i'll have you fags killed

In front of your mom and dads grill Splattering both of them

With pieces of your exploding head Brain fragments staining 'clothing red

I make you love the pain, it hurts

We make music for drug addicts, pieces of shit, that love the dirt

It's psychological I'm like having a rifle shot at you

We not the type that smile at you We the type that bite at you

Slit your throat with the broken bottle

Pieces of jagged glass stabbing 'you through your fuckin eyeballs

Have you swallowing cyanide screaming die whores

Kill your physical first, next your minds lost

Leave you in the funeral home you make a fine corpse

Got you splattered across the walls with my nine tongs

Murder you execution style like a crime boss

Travel through time and terminate you like a cyborg My mentality's grind core

Chorus

It's poetry in the streets of the big apple

And a vitality found in few other places

But look beneath the surface of the city

And you shall uncover a steaming cesspool of human emotion

Remix!

gun sour, a planet, where nightmares

that become reality

witness the brutality

its poetry in the streets of the big apple

you get tackled

and grappled to the floor, white slaved up and shackled

New Verse!

NECRO

Rescue crews show care for the living They'll stick with them

but once death is claimed Paramedics show disregard for the victim

You command respect when your alive but once you die

Your reduced to a bloody nusense a gruesome sight to the eye

Driven a taxi is a dangerous career

You might pick up the grim reaper the passenger all taxi drivers 'fear

a robber might put a gun in your

Ear and end your life with the twitch of a finger it happens all year

You going into respiratory arrest

The fire men are pumping your chest and hope in restoring your breath

No ones immune to die in you disagree ur lyin

To urself in time everything living's history