Kkkill the Fetus (Escam) - Dice

Feel my pain

Locked down, shackled in chains

Guns aimed at your maggot brain

Ready for war, poetry’s erotic

Dice, psycho-psychotic

Fuck a Bruce Wayne, nigga

I’m the Reel Life Product

Wake the dead, my vocal tone full of power

Creepin' on the east side in the midnight hour

Pissin' on your dead flowers, Hell if I wasn’t

You caught a slug from a .45 all of a sudden

Usin' my name in vain, funny how people change

Let it rain, insane, needles to veins

Mental stress, fuck a bullet-proof vest

And God bless whoever test

The King of the Midwest

No lies I tell, Escam I mail

So now you dealin with these

Evil Angels Runnin' Through Hell — EARTH

The resurrection of Dice, the rebirth

From the home of the brave, dancin' on graves

Plus I blaze in mysterious ways

Bustin' A.K.s for 300 and 65 days

Unholy… your momma’s a junkie, she owe me

10g, snorted up half a ki

Blasphemy, you stole from apartment 3

So feel my trilogy of terror, the hardcore era (threat)

A ghetto vet, you say you housin' my set

But I ain’t met a mothafucka that could do that yet (huh)

Kill or be killed nigga, You ain’t real, nigga, Feel my steel, nigga

(Kill the fetus)

Kill or be killed nigga, You ain’t real, nigga, Feel my steel, nigga

(Kill the fetus)

Kill or be killed nigga, You ain’t real, nigga, Feel my steel, nigga

(Kill the fetus)

Kill or be killed nigga, You ain’t real, nigga, Feel my steel, nigga

(Kill the fetus)

My understandin' is zero

Fuck that unholy negro

Dice Pacino, father of Manny and Carlito

Roll with Nino, stick up niggas at the casino

Bustin' shots at bitch niggas we know

I’m wicked world wide, a true ?, hard as a war dog

Fans be searchin for a nigga deep in the smog

I ain’t the Son of Sam, I’m the son of a murderous man

With murderous plans who took over your fans

Jealously expands, you stole styles from me and my mans

Word, I be writin' your rhymes niggas wouldn’t have gave you a chance

Kill the fetus, pull heaters on Lucifer’s leaders

Who don’t beleive in God or Jesus

Dice, deadlier than six hundred and sixty six common diseases

Symptoms of insanity

When you stare in the mirror you see reflections of me

The D.I., stay high in my neighborhood up to no good

Fuck NATAS, cause nigga I’m the mastamind

I’m in your hood, mothafucka, I ain’t hard to find

I got treated like a prostitute, keep the loot

I’mma hit you with a fat lawsuit, mothafucka!