M.O.B.

Lyrics

Verse 1: The snake charmer, equal opportunity hate monger I hold the weight in my straight left like A. Tarver J chop ya fuckin' head 'cause his blade sharper Every rhyme I fuckin' spit is a grenade launcher I'm an insane author, a non-human Who studied the SAGE test from John von Neumann Somethin' happens in my brain when the guitar strums Bitin' me would be insane cause it scars lungs These all guns, and I can handle 'em You mean as much to me as uncle Sam and 'em So I choose not to abuse telepathy Because it's dangerous like the Soviets' weaponry Let's see who's next to me, burned at the fuckin' stake Then I can throw the faggot urn in the fuckin' lake Give me a fuckin' break, you know what this is JS1, Rahzel, Paz, men of business Chorus (Scratches) Verse 2: I'm Abdullah the Butcher Pay respect or I'm pulling the cooker You might as well kill yourself, I'm droolin' to push ya Even if you survive, son, you still bitch 'Cause I'm waitin' anxiously to pull the kill switch Your body still stiff, rigor mortis I bring pain that's as raw as Kane's chorus I seen 'caine that was pure as Rich Porter's I seen brains that was poured on six corners Listen to orders, Vinnie Paz remain heartless That's due to my fixation on the darkness Just give me a forty, a idiot, and Billy Dee You'll see what the psychology of Philly really be Yeah, from the birth place of Rocky My left hook to the body is like Arturo Gatti You couldn't stop me, I fuckin' brain-drill I stick around a while to witness how the pain feel