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Demon Executor
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Comin' out the dirty bay area, northern Cali, it's the demon throw slasher,
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lyrical y-dasher, the bible passer, quick to blasher, with my load of tech-
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rhyme sprayin' bullets from the top of the mime cause I'm the lyrical,
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miracal, spiritual teacher, Nicaragua street preacher, who's out to reach you.
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Group of thugs who some call the X-Generation, through penetration of lyrical
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bullets of salvation, so bring the roughest and toughest demons be screamin'
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wanna start dumpin' and jumpin' demons like a gang initiation. Huh, who wanna
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mess with the craziest of em' all demons bringin' all and bang your head like
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a teatherball, ain't none a y'all finned to stop me, watch me gospel hip-hop
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till' the day the casket drop, wa-la. That's right, 1997, the Demon Executor
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up in this peace, I'm gonna kill all y'all demons!
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Chorus-
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Throw yo' hands way up in the air, that's the sound of the electric chair,
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that's the sound of demons screamin' fo their life and I'm the demon executor
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hittin' the switch tonight.
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I told you once I be the demon head choppa, the casket droppa, the glak-cocka,
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the Mr. Ready to hit em' up like 2-Paca. The demon body bag zipper-upper, the
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demon bucker, the one who got demons and beans on his plate for supper. I be
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the nuttiest one in the whole clan with Mac Town, switchblades and bibles held
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in both hands. Yes, I am- deciphorus, ludious, craziest, demon killer within'
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the California mile radius. Chick, Chick, glak-cock, ready to drop, drop
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demons anywhere I don't care pistols in the air, ready to flare. I ain't in
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to set trippin, blood crippin, instead I'm in to mormanistic-satanic bible
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rippin' lyrically flippin' lyrics like a quarter in the air call it heads or
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tails, from the hood up to no good. It's the demon body chocka, the mike-
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stocka, the Mr. Put you in cement to throw you off a bridge droppa. I be the
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man never puffin' on the booda, I'm the Texas chainsaw havin' demon executor.
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Hey, bone, these bustas told me you couldn't rap. Man, let me show em' what's
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up dawg!
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Like Boyz 2 Men, I got demons on bended knee, beg ' plea. 'Cause I kill more
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demons than Carmen got a whole bunch of them dumb- dodell peas. I'm the demon
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executor comin' straight out of Frisco with Giants and Niner Gear head to toe,
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oh, you didn't know? I be the demon neck choker, the devil smoker, the Mr.
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Demon Columbian Neck Tie get provoka. Repepermmeniti I'm ready to jack these
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demons, they ain't got no hope, gettin' up out my sythoscope. So blam, blam,
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comin on, blam to dem 4, me comin' up out the West like Mr. 2-Pac Shikur. Who
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wanna be sweatin' it, wettin it' cause O.R.C. comin' out with the lyrical
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mafeeoso style you can't believe. Till the day I die, I'm throwin' up Jesus
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Christ, demon executor fo life! That right! No, for real though, how you
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gonna stuff the bone? I got your back partner!
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