Genetic For Terror E

Yo. Yeah. Yeah. Genetic for terror. Genetic for terror. All the niggas in the area. Yeah. Genetic for terror. You feel me? It's all in check. Genetic for terror. Death Genetic for terror. You can't fade Marley G, I don't give a Fuck. Genetic for terror. It's Pete Murray setting It off. Genetic for terror. Death live on and on. Genetic for terror. Check this out. I'm talking to You niggas on the North, South, East and West. Fuck with Marley G and get a hole in Your chest. I drop enthusiastic metaphoric type Lines. The baddest nigga to ever come out the Crib and rhyme. Rappers fall prey to my deep Meditation. As I break they ass up like Abbreviation. I step to the microphone and shout it. Don't you doubt it. You kiss my ass and Make a love song about it. I'm off the wall with every phrase that's said. I black the fuck out, hunting rappers like the Pumpkinhead. Coming from the deep side with Death Squad in the basement. My style's been on death Watch like suicide patients. For 50 grand starts the illest level. With the sickest craft, I contact more skills than The devil. Soon as Ruck make the ingredients blend, I begin baking rappers in the oven like little Gingerbread Death Squad represented. It gets no rougher than this. Lyricist, kill a scene with the guillotine. Showing them execution rap styles on juveniles Across the border with alphabetical disorder. And slaughter, increase pain, insane, Deranged, motherfucker blowing they brains on Different terrains. I take a fake-ass nigga and Toast his ass, leave him numb like multiple Sclerosis, blast. I be that funky psychological maniac, I'm out of My cage. They huffing and they puffing, you can Never fade me. 'Cause I be countless as I Get lifted, pay-per-view. Read my title, hot damn, the Funk is homicidal. Now who that looking at me? I ain't nobody. I'm just that little nigga who Be fucking up that party. I'ma snuff the DJ, my lifestyle is grim. And niggas get blasted in the mix like Slim, Check it. Genetic For terror. Yeah. Genetic for terror. Genetic Genetic for terror. Genetic for terror. Genetic Yo, my Funk don't represent. Don't ever cross, my style is rougher than up North. And I'll never take a loss, cuz stay On course. I be living off the raw dog Shit. Pop 'em more and more shit. A lot of MCs lost it. I'm here to terrorize the hardcore and the Underground. Nigga, back down or you'll get smacked Down. On the real, this nigga's a motherfucking Trooper. I sleep with the Luka and blast at Intruders. I walk streets manic depressed. You can't fuck with my steps. I swing stab wounds to the chest and put Your ass in deep check. So who wanna try to see Bleez and the Doom Death Squad leave niggas resting in peace like A motherfucking graveyard? I split your cranium, take your bullshit agenda. Twist your head off like Dr. Mindbender. Who's the suspects? Dressed in black, Bleez and the Doom down for Whatever, bringing genetic for terror. Before I even fix my lip to speak, you Know what I'ma say. Something freaky with much Wordplay. I'm off the face of this Earth. Playing punk pussy motherfuckers out for what it's Worth. Buck wild like juveniles done blew trial. Locking up with rappers, Roman Greco wrestling Style. Plus, there's no such thing as Murray getting Touched. Girls jump at my flow like double I Leave 'em lost. In between resurrection and judgment Day is where that punk nigga lay. Word up. And it's deeper than you think. And furthermore, a whole lot of niggas gon' stink. What? Fucking with this Funk-a-bis, Nigga from the mist. Motherfuckers motionless, Stiff with paralysis. The Death Squad MCs, PPPs. Full of structural abnormalities. And we attack invariably. Word up. Dissing permanent disabilities. Tell 'em all. I ice capade like Peggy Fleming Over funk beats. And lock down the streets. Lock down, Lock it down