[Verse 1: Goretex]
Yo, yo, yo, yo
My posse hold the Oxy down, fuck the cops around
Pistol whip you dead in your ear, hearing aids like Foxy Brown
Just felines and peepers, my uncle taught me the street sweepers
Adderall cheaper, mix it with cocaine and two liters
Perforate, my slug putting holes in your brain
To focus the strain, light me some dust blunts up with an ounce of strain
Astral plane bullets have you jump around like House of Pain
Mountains of dope hitting on the couch mix it with acetate
Frozen nose post mortem the coke is it's mortis
Surgical tourist never seen, the fuck, it is morbid
Shotties holding evap me cuz I carry like Gary Oldman
Got killers in fifth grade that get over like Gary Coleman
I feel like Genovese selling death by the needle
You can find me in the trap or laying up at the Regal
No seats like Death Proof we some militant Hebrews
Run up in your crib with masks we the last of the evil

[Interlude]
Law enforcement sources say Stephen Paddock's car was just found by a K9 unit inside the Mandalay Bay Hotel parking garage. It was loaded with at least one thousand rounds of ammunition in a suitcase and the explosive Tannerite in a duffel bag. Investigators are examining whether the car was part of Paddock's escape plan

[Verse 2: Hex Rated]
Come on
It's the test tube baby nation, they've got your name inside they databases
You've got tablets in your fuckin' face, GPS located
BBS, Goretex, Hex Rated got you locked in a basement
Write rhymes in codex and use your flesh for the pages
And hail Satan, alien technology
Media lobotomy, sodomy, honestly there ain't no lot of me
Do what thou will is the policy flawlessly
I'ma fuckin' bring it back now
Cop a plane ticket then I watch the towers smack down
Blackout, bring the record back around
Put your fucking pipes down, light checking right now
Come on! Come on!
[Interlude]
At the end of a week that saw the deadliest mass shooting in modern US history, police seem to be no closer to an explanation for it. While the FBI and the law was asking the public for help, they were running into a street and fifty eight that were killed. And the nearly five hundred who were wounded still remain in hospital

[Verse 3: Anthraxe]
I'm a sick savage known to inflict damage in quick fashion
Roll up on you in front of your clique and feed you a fist sandwich
We ain't with those bitch tactics, the Syndikate wrecking shit
And you can get your grill smashed in if you disrespecting it
It's BBS and it's making it look effortless
MC's try to step and I'll rape 'em in two sentences
Rappers are such sensitive emotional bitches
I'll be asking myself "Who the fuck let these hoes in the business?"
Holding a biscuit, finna catch more bodies than Stephen Paddock
I'm an evil bastard, I'll leave 'em scattered to feed the maggots
Causing a scene of panic, flee with the masses
Fuck off and plead 'til y'all deceased, you flock of weak little faggots
They poppin' Mollies and Xannies, I'm poppin' autos and semis
And putting hollow tips in all of my enemies, start with the killing spree
They're all literally fiends begging for a little piece
But fuck 'em I'm cuttin' these heads off like a guillotine