Never Dead

Lyrics

[Intro] They will pay All of mankind shall pay for this [Verse 1: M. Sayyid] Curt Strifer, the loon goon with the tunes in his tomb Hotter than June Since out a twisted crib into the fumes, kids trip on his broom Press twills for schills, shag with the half moon Cab to school, straight to the bathroom To take a piss then help the teacher with the creatures that inflated from the ethers And it's waitin' in the beakers to bite on teen features The preachers come with sermons and parents pack bleachers Yo, it's done Mr. Kim, I shrunk 'em down to ticks Just hit me at noon with $60 and two knicks I gotta split, yo Va, ah Ill kicks What's the shit, black? Yo, how you nukin'? [Verse 2: Viktor Vaughn] Reactin' with the core breach spewin', ya darn tootin' Right after this rec you might expect lootin' Nasty drop the rhyme like lime then tequilla Flippin' like Optimus Prime to a ten-wheeler V set the scheme on his own team like Starscream Then go hit the bar scene all like 'na mean?' Go to school every day, except for when he play hookey That's the days he play bookey If I don't study I'm a cheat off Peter Parker Keep a liter of vodka inside my locker Use it like a book on the Grey Goose scenario Play you like a stereo hey you, where he go? I'm 'bout to blow one of y'all monkeys out the frame Whoever gypped my locker and took my Donkey Kong Game Watch, don't even try to put it back so I can find it later Word to Koch, it's Vaughn against the ninth graders [Verse 3: M. Sayyid] Haters, you fuckin' with cats who's heads are sharp as alligators Pull out the ox cutter, nigga did I mutter or stutter what I uttered Then check in your little cash flow or give my nigga back his Hasbro Or catch a stab slow and that's woah Shorty with the big talk, you gotta go Swing on the drip to leave scars Blood spattered on his fat laced Abdul Jabbars Now we're gettin' chased through school with jars Principal jumped up with his dick in the mouth of Ms. Mars Picked up the tele, sweatin' for some squad cars Cats tried to cut us off by the garage But V pulled out the nicky Yelled, "Life's chance is slim" like Lionel Richie [Verse 4: Viktor Vaughn] There's no finer sound then when you let off a nine round Before the slug find the ground, V be in Chinatown Uh, give me a slew of M-80s A carton of those hick chasers, and two of them ladies It's like the hood black market Where you get goods from gats to pudding pack chocolate To your health, we rock Chinese slippers Me and King Gilizwe and two Guyanese strippers On the radio, "Mack the Knife" I watched him freeze roaches and bring 'em straight back to life He used a different approach than I ever read The only thing he ever said was, "The roach is never dead." We studied transfigurations And different ways to break the trance off the nigga nations It's even bigger with the Haitians No time for litigations [Verse 5: M. Sayyid + Viktor Vaughn] And that was science for the head, so we did the knowledge and sped To the shed, mixin' dog bone with egg It says, "Add body hair", [?], the heart of a hen A fig, lay it under the bed Will turn back time" and that's just what we did Next day walked in the school from the crib Laughin', yo, limpin' like a cane And as I pass V, "Yo C—you see I got my game, right?"