24 Shots

(Verse One)
 My shit's straight vile
 You're mild, you've got no style
 I won't be impressed or you possessed by baliel
 I make beats like surgeons resume
 To stitch up your wounds
 Inside the emergency room
 They must work urgently or de-permanently be in a tomb
 You see in the clergy soon
 I'm taking this rap game serious from the start
 Make your chest cut open with scalpel holding doctors working on your heart
 Playing fucking God
 Lacerating to pieces to of lard
 Like vultures ripping Jesus apart
 You're chopped up and divided in cubes
 My tracks pump like blood pumping through isotopes
 The human body gore who the fuck created it?
 Veins and brains are insane and so creative shit
 Satanic organs
 Melodies of morbidness
 Over the ramming sword of sicknesses the world's all been dissed
 You rap like a cadaver
 There's no life in you
 I should stick a knife in you
 Right through your windpipe will do
 (Chorus 2x)
 24 shots in your head
 I know you're dead but I want to make sure you're dead
 So I pump 4 more in your head
 With the Beretta you're dead but I want to make sure you're deader
 (Verse Two)
 My pumping tracks hit you like gun shots fire crackers
 And jumping jacks wrapped into one attack
 This year, is just another point in time
 Another year time devourers the joints in your spine
 Until you're stressed
 With no credentials left
 Just your essential breath and the potential death
 It's maggots and blindfolds, winter jackets and rifles
 Caught up in the cycle of psychos
 It's when your life goes
 I'm done with baffling a kid disses and I grab him then I'm gonna stab 'em
 son you're ain't fronting on my album
 Spitting on your bitches tits
 They shift the shit
 My pistol grip is sadistic like my fistal clique
 (Chorus)
 (Verse 3)
 Now since World War 2 has a rapper slaughtered you
 With the impact of Necro's rap
 It's morbid true, in fact
 Now since the person is a poet created grim probated 'em like mainguetches
 making me end of the grange
 I've had a profane effect
 My angle has strangled the underground like a noose around the neck
 My first radio coverage introduced you to being bluging
 And took you to the brain of a Brooklyn kid that was thugging
 Now I've got hundreds loving
 Who would have thought I be considered the greatest cat
 Explaining the verbal on slaw
 Now everyone's objective is directed towards finding a Necro record or a
 freestyle where I wreck the respected
 (Chorus)
 DIE!