[Verse 1]
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6
Here comes the voodoo
What you going to do when my crew
Back from the dead once more again
Fucking up the flow again
Fuck it here we go again
Oh, not me again
Last time I wrecked shit
Burned down the church
Coming through like the Exorcist
Next to this you getting put on my shit list
Pro-Lifers get dissed
You can't fuck with this
Wicket, wild
Wicket style
I don't give a fuck I'll get buck wild
I'm psycho just like Michael
And I might go a little something like this
Suicidalist, dangerous
Minds bust when I bust
Kicking up dust, now I must
In God you trust
If I add just, then I add just this
No justice, no peace
Bloody body, police
Belly of the beast got me fiending for a cracker
Jack be nimble
Make your body tremble
Cardiac arrest from the one in the chest
Then I'll K-I-double-L-T-H-E-F-E-T-U-S
Yes, I'm down with N-A-T-A-S
I suggest you try but don't cry
Cause the Wicketshit will never die
[VERSE 2]
Once again I resurrected
N***as unexpected the closed casket
When I leaped out and blasted a basketcase
Symptoms of Insanity I'm not alone
Having fatal thoughts of putting the chrome to my dome
Now what kind of Wicketshit is Some Old Wicketshit?
Got so many n***as all on the Devil's dick and shit
Stay up off my dick
My style's sick
But I'm so sick of this
Hellterskkkelter
Bite my shit, it's so ridiculous
I know my shit's fatter than Luther Vandross
Psychic connection want to hit me with the Holy Ghost
Overdose, diagnose, n***as in a comotose
Once I buck, buck you
N***a motherfuck you
Voodoo, wicked child born a bastard
Visions of bloody bodies being blasted
Thinking of excuses
Voices in my head
Mental abuses
To lose my mind on the flatline
Refuses to answer
You can bless shit 'til you question
Me and myself versus Smith & Wesson
I'm that n***a with the wicket ass flow
Bitch you better act like you know
Cause the Wicketshit will never die
[VERSE 3]
The Wicketshit will never 187
Never go to Heaven, and
Fuck that Reverend
All day whenever and
Feel like giving up
Mind starts blowing up
Some Old Wicketshit
Once again I'm throwing up a fit
I'm never going to get into Heaven
That's why I bought me a .357
Fuck a Reverend
And God I can't trust, it's true
So when I go to Hell
Better me and not you
I'm going to walk the bloody trail
And you can follow if you want
If you truly understand
But my man I think you don't
I'm a suicidal, revital
My title's homicidal
So many n***as have died when I write my recital
They don't understand that I gotta plan for the Klan
The Aryan Nation, white caucasian
I'm sick of all this bullshit
I'd rather be dead
But first I'd rather put a bullet in your head instead
They said that everything I said was a lie
But if you go and kill the fetus you'll cry
But the Wicketshit will never die