Goretorium

Lyrics

[Bloodsucking Freaks Intro] Ahhh.... [?], put its worth in the toilet, allows people to make an interesting unit [Verse I] A row sellin' coke in my lobby to Jody Watley, would stop for Christ Too much posse bundles are no poppy Black angels on the bag, dummies fallin' out Disclose a fortune cookie Break it open, read your thoughts, I'm out Leave a pretty corpse like a bounce, fuck 'em out through her blouse I put the stick through her head then place it on the couch Polaroids like Gene Simmons but my bitches dead Fatal portraits of natural blondеs with missin' heads I stopped datin' my new addiction, it's chicks with drеads Knockers still hot 'cause her scalp bubbles were hit with lead I leave a kitchen red, sophisticated killer net Look at the green onions, blood seep in your silhouette Mausoleum sport sipper like Capri Sun Dissection shirt that dig the posers when D's come Bitches say I'm self-absorbed, I need oven cleaners Muzzle loader, I call it lunch meat, run it through the vegans Motherfucker brains still like pulled pork A true sport, king of the landfills of New York My goons sick, half crooks, half detergent The triple six, half books, half perversion Street vermin, king of Acrivon, burn churches I love bitches in white that's why I burn nurses I'm movin' coke in NERF balls like I'm Larry Flynt Death proof bloody partition windows'll eye you in [Chorus (x4)] This is Goretorium, murder junkie, I'm the Bad Lieutenant Children of Doom, dope lords, acid, coke sellin' The Mexican Beherit [Verse II] The Forbes killer Top 10 givin' coffin vapors I'm never photogenic, clearin' you my Jordan agents Poster boy, terror wave, Oklahoma City My reputation for car bombs is Frank Nitty Watchin' the ozone burn, terrorist slow mo' Celebrity Roast, Travolta court, kill Chaz Bono Putrefaction ceremony blaze triple wizard The lightbearer inverted to any Christian image Leak ambassador, here to get the Martians wept Pagan stars in prostitution rings like a martyr's rep I'll carve your neck, cartridge catch, I'm the art of death I'm Chris Farley shirt open on the carpet wet New cats inside will bounce sloppy to tell the NARC's are blessed Either that a chick in my freezer, see the carcass left The mark of the TEC, reap cons of flesh, you be dodgin' the vets My reputation is carvin' his fuckin' best Supermarket fresh covers lay your body limp Rabbis put makeup on your face with a shotty hit [Chorus (x4)]