Dead Bodies - The Terrorists

Look around and tell me what you see

Nothing but catastrophes bother Dope-E

This ain’t a game, nigga, I don’t fuck around

I stuff your body in a garbage can downtown

See, that’s the hardcore life of the street game

With freaks attained, a nigga’s face get rearranged…

Into bloody play-doh, that’s the way it go

And by the time you think you know the time it ain’t no mo'

You see, I’m just waiting for a fool

So I could use his blood for my backyard pool

Damn, these niggas think of bullshit and fuck all that hitting

I’ma let my 9 start clicking

I did a job, I had to rob the mob

All their ass died cause they can’t squab

Terrorist style, battle to the very end

So many fatal weapons, I’m taking out all your men

And with my rifle and a scope to spot them

I’ma shoot my whole column till I doubt em and got them

You better wish upon a fucking star

Cause when my blood heats up, I’m hotter than steaming tar

Dead bodies…

Sending out a death shout to my boy Point Blank… May he rest in

Peace…

(What?! They done killed my nigga Blank?!)

No, ah-ah…That's bullshit…

I’m a walking corpse waking up from a deep sleep

Balming fluid in my body, still counting sheep

With a 100 dead men watching my back

I die smoking primos, they die smoking crack

Now it’s time to us to raise

And all the niggas that dissed me in the past: suprise

I get crazy thoughts that make me laugh

Like put you in the ground, dig you up and then kill your ass

How that sound, Dope?

(It sound good to me…)

What about you, Ganksta Nip?

(86 them, nigga speak…)

So if ya need more info check the mail

Cause mark the beginning of Blank’s blood trail

And if you make it to the end

I put a pistol to my head cause you gotta be a rough man

But ain’t no nigga harder than the Point Blank

So bitch, you owe me apology (I'm sorry!)

P-O-I-N to the mothafucking T Blank

Wreck shit like a tank, dank…

Makes me get ill, that’s why the mothafucking morgue is filled

Full of dead bodies…

Reminiscing about way back when…

As roggish as I was I should’ve been in the pen

Killing ain’t no thang, I must be insane

Snatch a little girl’s umbrella and ask her could she stand the rain

My brains is disassembled, life I can’t handle

But that’s what I get for throwing away my brain instruction manual

Robbed an old lady, went to court didn’t care

Cause I beat on the ear till her hearing was impaired

The judge could convict me, on where that occurred

Cause the pipe I beat her with made her speak with a slur

I’m dissing, but never ever, kissing the next man’s butt

Don’t make me get my pump

Chump change, pennies, nickles and dimes

I need bus fair, give it here, it’s mine

South Park brotha from the south y’all and don’t you ever run up on me

And try to scold me, or even bluff me, you better off shoot me

It takes a whole task force to handcuff me

I’m strong, street smart is the way to be

No hesitation, I strike instantly like a cobra

You better off staying sober, living on the edge, looking over your

Shoulder

I’m a maniac, when I react I attack…

With a baseball bat with intentions to crack…

Skulls and ribs, leaving mortal remains

Temporary insanity, I’m forever deranged

Now look at me and tell me what you see

How old do I look cause I can only count to three

I need an education, to give me hope

I need some money, so now I’m selling dope…

E behind bars, a cement wall

With no one to write to or no one to call

And if I ever have a change to do it over

I would do it just like I did before: hardcore

Leaving dead bodies…

Leaving dead bodies…

Dead bodies…