The Demon’s Peace

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Slaine] Yeah, my timing off, hard hearted, my mind is soft My cold dreaming got no meaning behind it all Wake up in this black hole designed and had to climb the wall Mental case, my faith went the way of the dinosaur The jungle hungry, blood is dripping from the lions paw Get a taste of murder more, every day that I mature The sickness in my veins, I don't need to find a cure Freddy stashed the burner by the BFI [?] behind the store The violent law outside my culture waits a savage beast The gluttony is stuck on me, the demon needs to have his peace/piece Sly thief, high priest of the lavish feast With five freaks they filleted me 'til I splattered cheeks [?] My vice is nice, gamble for the price of ice With the dice in hand, watch him scramble for a nicer life Pretty women in their linens by the sofa sing Full of malice, running into the chalice as they toast again [Hook: Slaine & Termanology] (x2) Caught up in the vice grip, fire in ya iris (Yayo from the Puerto Rocks) whiskey of the Irish Swimming in ya blood stream, spreading like a virus (Ya hear the angels sing) with the song of King Cyrus [Verse 2: Termanology] Yo, I'm never faking the funk My ex-bitch is a cunt, the other one's even worse I bought her a Gucci purse, she still complain Even though she's ill with the brain, she's wild dumb Let me fuck raw 'til I cum, then I hit the tour Fuck six fans in six vans, then the drugs kicked in Think hard as a kickstand Got me running around the telly [?] buck naked with a Asian Told me she worship Satan, her boyfriend was amazing The last one was an agent, working for the feds Then I kicked her, then I kicked her, then I kicked her out my pad [?] led paint, in 1988 I sat in the project while my moms went on dates Falling asleep hungry, flicking roaches off my face Got a open case, lucky I ain't hooked on base I got second hand crack smoke still in my lungs Did a hundred shows last year, I'm still on the run [Hook: Slaine & Termanology] (x2) Caught up in the vice grip, fire in ya iris (Yayo from the Puerto Rocks) whiskey of the Irish Swimming in ya blood stream, spreading like a virus (Ya hear the angels sing) with the song of King Cyrus