You Can't Put A Face To Murder
rationale of a serial killah
...murdah's just therapy
thru the sites of a waring sol'jah
...murdah's only policy
last thoughts of a jilted lover
...murdah's gona rescue me
in the voice of a gangsta killah
...murdah comes easy
The Psychopath
lurking in dark places, patiently waiting to pounce
working to part faces, patiently baiting the mouse
jerkin a tart shameless angrily painting her blouse
while drain'n her health w/a knife fuck to the mouth
deep in the flesh buried hatchets fashion the mold
fast to unload seeds on a quest to blast in the cold
bask in bold colors after tearing her ass a new hole
literally sticking my dick where a breast used to go
fist fucking her sick w/ the severed arm of her beau
beating my drum to full moons then eating her whole
eager to hold her pretty head up for show as a trophy
and mount her covered in blood nailing miss sophie
police discovered her uncovered in mud... mostly!
body parts scattered, her remains battered & bare
if you stacked up the carnage I left half of her there
drank of her blood & drug half of her back to my lair
" rationale of a serial killah
...murdah's just therapy "
The Soldier
mangled men dangle from braided ends
..brazen under fire, muzzled deeply within
ruins of an old tower counting to ten
..gaining control of my breath
while poised to deliver a sermon of death
..calculating & to a certain extent
live for my orders & march w/a murderous intent
..so if the order's to kill
it's blood that'll spill, & when I finger a trigger
..another sand nigger'll feel
my dedication to Country, my God & this steel
..march onward Christian soldier
shoulder a rifle and learn to combat w/ skill
..caught in the cross hairs
of this good'ole boy out paying the rent
..cuz freedom ain't free
so I'm repaying my debt, tenfold every hour
..men fold in a shower
of lead, fired from a tower high over head
..turning turbans to red
low on ammo I call in to strike the position
..w/ guided munitions
that explode and burst into screams
..from the soon to be dead
my occupation is war, born & bred
..to put boots on the shore
to Baghdad & his wife w/a knock at your door
..cuz that's American.. Hard to the core!
" thru the sites of a waring sol'jah
...murdah's only policy "
The Jilted Lover
tears stream down the face of this gentle man
a gentlemen well dressed, with a dental plan
the jilted man's heart broke by sweet Suzanne
banned by love before he was wedded by band
loaded on shots he stumbles pistol in hand
pissed at the world he fumbles pissing his pants
slouched in an alley where kids come to dance
thinking only of her and their shattered romance
a thousand faces later he sees her in dress
out w/ her girls letting off stress, so he guessed
until he caught a second glimpse of her chest
implants? followed by planted hands on her ass
this a new lover or just some man out to harass?
he staggers thru shadows while stuck in the past
lips pressed to a flask gun loaded ready to blast
he sneaks up behind only to brandish the chrome
pistol whips dude as she screams "leave him alone"
he fires three shots.. two to kill love...
...AND ONE TO HIS DOME
Suzanne falls to the ground in blood stained dress
sentenced to eternal rest, by love gone a mess
" last thoughts of a jilted lover
...murdah's gona rescue me "
The Gangster
ok, so the way this shit starts out is kind of fucked
another shoot out.. an exchange of double ought buck
for the change in my pocket.. maybe the rims on my truck
humble by nature but in a rumble you're shit out of luck
three shots from that blazer so I duck low and untuck
the package I keep neatly stashed in the dash, w/a clunk
the barrel sounds as I exit for cover to fire up some punks
low crawl to take a clear shot on the drivers side w/a chunk
the kind to slug a mutha fucka mean muggin from 30 yards
raised in dirty yards, predisposed to do dirt, fucken w/ dirty bars
only led to burning with hurt. So it's slugs to the dome
painting a closed casket collage w/ the flesh off your bones
shell verses shell, but I ain't exchanging them moans
because it's Hell verses HELLFIRE when I engage for my own!
I put two in the driver then I got the drop on his clone
cut the fucker in half and watched his fragments get blown
splattered and leaked on the leather, sidewalk and chrome
gun powder blues, shake the spot before they spot you
" in the voice of a gangsta killah
...murdah comes easy "
rationale of a serial killah
...murdah's just therapy
thru the sites of a waring sol'jah
...murdah's only policy
last thoughts of a jilted lover
...murdah's gona rescue me
in the voice of a gangsta killah
...murdah comes easy
You can't put a face to murder... until you're facing murder...