Goretex
Fender Rhodes Suicide
[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
The chariots of Satan, bare skins, black horses, and swords
Bloodthirsty dogs of war with big revolvers galore
We from Glenwood Projects with egos the size of cathedrals
Goon flicks, white dudes with afros that's wild like Knievel
Don't eat the brown acid, she devils in bellbottoms dancing
Hippie bitches surround Manson, underground anthems
Of mainstream massacre, Sharon Tate stomach lacerator
Fetus remover, dripping like Eazy-E's activator
Like Mitch Green, my words of intrigue, are sharp enough to make
Your wrist bleed; and make even the hottest bitch fiend
And blow dick; we so sick, we holding control of your life
In a chrome clip, I blow up your whole shit
We the most focused, like Mark Storace from Krokus
You're over with, hit you with flying exploding fists
My flying razors and guillotines hoping you quit
Draining what's left of your soul till you no longer exist
[Hook: Necro] x2
Gangster guitar, 70s dust shit, pump this
Stick a needle in, catch a fix, saxophone and trumpets
Bop to the ride, Fender Rhodes suicide
[Verse 2: Goretex]
Electric Funeral, doing bong hits with Iommi
I'm smoked out, zonked, like chrome, till my eyes are all foamy
El Camino with the dubs, coke plates for the homies
Darkthrone holding it down, I spit a round for the cronies
I'm the king of the park, with the booze and bombs taped to my suit
You're a violent femme, a pussy still unable to douche
All these oxys got me hopped up on making the shoot
What I do to your face, you make it seem my arm is the truth
This is my war like Black Flag's, zipped up in the black bag
Pissing on models' pussies, just look at what the cat dragged
Pentagram behind her ear, big tits with a little sag
Young wizard rocking the hand of doom with a little skag
My project dwarves with masks in the paper bag
Buck-fifty turkey and swiss, two for you and your man
Prime deli, oozing out your skull like jelly
My goons are a threat to the world, we bury you in your Bentley
[Hook: Necro] x2