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Die Slow
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Mac Lethal
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1
Ugh, black blood, dripping out your muthafuckin black lungs....
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[chorus]
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There's something pulling at my focus it won't let me go
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So now I'm telling everthing and everyone 'Die Slow'
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I swear to God there's something trying to steal my sound
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I swear to God it's trying to steal my sound, I tell it 'Die Slow'
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There's something pulling at my focus it won't let me go
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So now I'm telling everthing and everyone 'Die Slow'
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I swear to God there's something trying to steal my sound
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I swear to God it's trying to steal my sound, I tell it 'Die Slow'
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Now while your fans so stupid that you talk this slow
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So they can understand what the hell you're sayin
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If that's the case then answer me one question
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How's it feel to have a fan base that still uses crayons?
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I'm a rapper and I don't really like rap
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So I'ma leave the show and probably go get a night cap
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And if you disagree then we can just agree to disagree
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But listening to this egregious bitch MC is sickening
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I tell 'em 'Die slow'
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Cut me, I'll bleed all over the paper for my passage
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I'll take you to hell and introduce you to new shades of blackness
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There's a disease that's creepin under my skin
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Now every alcoholic in the city's prolly gettin kinda drunk of London Dry Gin
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So my friends, is this the cycle's
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And I like to pretend, that it gets washed away
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Or it'll say good bye with the wind
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It's not cliche, I really fiend for something lively again
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Cuz the Texas soil and the blood of Christ in the blend
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[chorus]
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Do you wanna dance with the devil or me?
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Incredi-bally both of us share the same face
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Pain-stakingly different hit 'em with another rhythm
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Or give 'em a pitiful point of view
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And a puncture right through the heart-shaped box
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I'll parlay on top and I fall top
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I wanna taste blood, I wanna taste every single drop
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Get so psycho, float and it twist me slow
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But I don't need a damn crew with me though
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Cause I'ma rattle everybody for the embryos
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And I'ma battle in a pill til it gets me home
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So with gusto, so I stay til the blood oath
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Fuck no not the answer, not the banter, man I'm damn sure
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Die Slow
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Don't give a fuck about the record deal advances
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My window panes are violently tapped at by these branches (Die slow!)
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There's a disease that's creepin under my skin
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Now every alcoholic in the city prolly gettin kinda drunk off London Dry Gin
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So my friends, I'm tryna comprehend
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that knock my off the hinge and blow my poison through a hot syringe
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