6 Ways From Sunday lyrics

[Verse 1: Killa C]
Open them lips, you get cut into pieces
Metamorphed into food and then into feeces
I'm cooking a thesis, my stove top's delicious
Murder is not where I am …
I loath you motherf*ckers, so keep talking sh*t
When I see you in person, I'm aiming for your di*k
You b*tch get a clip, and turn into a trick
R. Kelly yo ass, take a shower in p*ss
I rap with legends, motherf*cker you don't
f*ck around, talk sh*t, I crash a plane in your home
You might see me on a row, or out on a boat
I chain you to cinderblocks so your ass don't float
This is truth that I'm spitting, it's real f*cking simple
I'm aiming for your brain and your girlfriends nipple
I know that you b*tches stay scared and aware of me
I'll gut yo ass up like that faggot …......

[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
I be the epitomy of evil, mind is …
Installation 1990 find me off on my steeple
Hell and heaven's my gospel
All 6's and 7's I'm hostile uncanny
Clip yo wiz and I spill jizz in her fanny
I is in her panties, Tech Nina higher than a pill horse
Partially God's angel but I fly with a hill force
I lie and smell torch cause I, bi-polar
I love you and I'm thinking of eating you
With a reasoning(?) and gorgonzola
And I'll eat all you b*tches black to liveanians(?)
That's why the industry look at me like I'm Damian
And I ain't the prettiest, some stay back like I'm hideous, run
If he don't then he stuck on whack and … pitiless
Killa Cizzle and me, see we first class
And the mothern*ggas woofin' on us, they be third class
The Nina, see me burst blast
Big nick tell me he got a alligator mouth and a tweety bird ass b*tch
[Verse 3: Haystak]
I'm comin' in from …., I follow the killer into the building
You're now tuned Mister McMill(?)
I smack children, put b*tches on they back
Big, loud and rowdy, don't know how to act
Attack, like a pitt when you take me off the chain
… I do my thug thug thang
Come here, let me have a closer look at your brain
The wall behind you is covered with stains
You claim to be a gangster, you's a little snitch
You hang up on me again and I'll gut you like a fish you little b*tch
This ain't no f*ckin' scary movie, this reality holmes
And you dealin' with the man on the brink of insanity
Nobody move, you still get hurt
Run for your life or you're 'bout to get burned up
Stand back while I state my case
You gon' f*ck around and make me paint my face

[Verse 4: Spice-1]
Close your eyes and grip yo di*k
I'm about to hit you with this clip
Say goodbye to the bad guy
Light 'em up for f*ckin' with my chips
Hit 'em with the four five, watch 'em bleed
…..........
If a n*gga get caught up in my gunplay
He gon' die up in these streets
Motherf*ckers know 'bout how we do it
Threw the b*tch n*gga up in the trunk
If a n*gga know about bosselini then he know that I'm gon' …
Put 'em in the coffin while I'm coughin
Smoke a sticky …
Slip 'n slidin' hittin' corners
n*ggas that told me where you hidin'
You ain't slick, you ain't sly
Motherf*ckers just can't escape
Monkey ass n*ggas can't f*ck with these real apes
So I'm a killa, see?
Rollin' a blunt with Killa C
With my ….... and my artillerie
Motherf*ckers don't wanna see me roll
b*tch n*ggas don't wanna see me ride
n*gga this mister bosselini certified and fortified, immortalized
That n*gga that put 2 slugs in that ass
Don't let your mouth write a check that your balls can't cash, n*gga
[Verse 5: Bizarre]
Off the wall, about to f*cking lose it
I don't talk sh*t, goddammit I do it
Surreal world, f*ck …... with a broom
Take a shroom, and pass out and vern this room
See how crazy that sounds?
Into the mind of a 29 year old pedophile
My dad was a fag, touched my brother every day
Now you know how I feel about gays
Talk sh*t, end up on the sh*tlist
Suck my di*k and taste syfilus
I'm a rockstar, I party every night
f*ck weed, I put a 8-ball in the pipe
It ain't right, how I talk about drugs
Xanax, vicodin got me f*cked up
This D-12 get shot, beat and stabbed
Catch me in my tenner, in a meth lab

[Verse 6: Skatterman]
Skatterman motherf*cker yeah I'm down with this sick sh*t
You're man wanted a kilo so I sold him this b*tch quick
He came back, I guess he wanted a refund
Hear the sounds of my screwdriver piercing his weak lungs
pus*y, spewing blood all on my tennis shoes
Being dragged to the tub where I'ma finish you
I grabbed the lighter fluid, and a matchstick
The skin on his face melted like plastic
The smoke alarm is going off, the house is full of smoke
Guess I was trippin' cause the whole house is full of dope
Before I get to packin' I watch his flesh seized
Grab my work and now I'm down on the next street
I light me swisha up to calm my nerves down
I hear the ambulance and the ghetto bird now
The cops …. grab my pistol and I let it off
Then realised my bullet riddled body likely set it off