Killagram lyrics

[Verse 1: Esham]
It's the Mr. Unholy sinster, man I murdered your minister
Murder mo' n*ggas talkin' jive than Jeff Fenster
Witness the prime minister, grand dragon
Body baggin', the 44 mag still got my pants saggin'
n*ggas on the bandwagon, say they suicide driven
For the unforgiven, these dead flowers ain't livin'
Pyscho, like no, other muthaf*cka so
Go upside your cranium dome with the chrome
I'm sick of all these suckas, my mind spinning in swirls
Impregnate your body with slugs and murdered the world
Therapeutic thinkin' that the mo' bullets ejected
They concluded, wasn't expected for my ass to shoot it
I'm a son of a gun, I swallow bullets for fun
My daddy with the gun powder, sh*t, call me hollow tip
Little slug hate life, livin' ain't love givin'
For ya paranoia, so I'm suicide driven, man

[Verse 2: Esham]
I know you hate this suicidalist
The animal, rhyme cannibalistic
Realistic, bad luck, ain't no heart in my body
So I'm quick to pull the shotty
John Gotti and murder ya body, foul
Stack a body pile, momma I murdered ya child
In the midnight hour, smoking on Dead Flowerz
My Glock stay so hot, it spit fire
Infrared beam, make ya scream like Michael Myers
Retire, your life just expired
I'm repossessin', got caught with the intent to deliver a drug possession
No question, I'm playing true confession
I'm ill with the steel, I showed the chrome to let them know I'm gone
Psychotic, Reel Life product, we play for keeps
Symptoms I'm insane, murder yo ass in yo sleep
No therapy so I'm out to murder all of y'all
Mental migraine, still gone off Tylenol
So now I'm out to destroy
Any n*gga who wanna annoy me
'Cause I'm down with Dead Boy
[Dead Boy Talking]
Carbon-copy ass muthaf*ckin' ass n*ggas
Back the f*ck up, b*tches!
Comin' through this b*tch
Ye, what up, n*ggas
Got this muthaf*ckin' steel di*k for yo ass
Put it in yo muthaf*ckin mouth, b*tch!
Bite this

[Verse 3: Esham]
I don't really wanna feel like I feel
But the steel be calling my name
And it's a shame, bloody butcher knife, still buried in my backyard
Mental flashbacks of how my knuckles got scarred
n*ggas be smiling in my face and back stabbin'
Even though they know, I'm bullet bussin' and gun grabbin'
Die, die, die U-N-H-O-L-Y, toe tag to body bag
Your mama cry, born into this life, no escape from playa hates
Down to stack papes, going psycho like Norman Bates
Ill like Reel Life, yelling, police rebellin'
Still talking broke english and drug sellin'
Oz choppin', hip-hoppin', n*gga with a death wish
Money and the power, p*ssin' on Dead Flowerz