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High Tension

๐Ÿ‘ค Necro, Kool G Rap & The Godfathers โ€ข ๐ŸŽผ Once Upon a Crime โ€ข โฑ๏ธ 3:07
๐ŸŽต 1981 characters
โฑ๏ธ 3:07 duration
๐Ÿ†” ID: 5301892

๐Ÿ“œ Lyrics

My ratchet exhales lead, cleaving, my hatchet's leaving a trail of red
Catching cerebrum from a detached female head
Apache walking through the cornfield, I was born real
Wielding a morning star, You're left torn and peeled on the floor, kneeled
Cold aggressor, buck the 3 pound off at you like Roth in Little Odessa
Guillotine your crown off with a clothes dresser
The Hades gatekeeper, Hatebreeder, breaking your face
I'm blatantly crazier, straigh razor your trachea
Pulp plops on your shirt, bloody red polka dots
The unfed vulture plots murder, dead your folks while you watch
Assasinated with acid, fascinated with drilling
Lacerated you bastard, masturbated to killing
Your fucking life X'd out, flexin' axe like Dexter
Slash you with Plexiglas, black bury you like a texter
Fuck what you're selling, you'll get bucked in your melon
Metall pellets stuck in your cerebellum, once you're abducted like Helen!

Cut your head off, bust the lead off, now get off
The dick money, you don't know me, keep it moving homie
The Godfathers' henchmen are drenched in your blood, did I mention?
When G and Nec in the room, it's High Tension!

Killer team, guillotines and gallows
40 caliber, loaded with Calicos, on barrel and mallet mode
Calluses of malice grow, Molotov bottle your ballad flow
Death on a pale horse, the gallop slow
Blade of my Excalibur glow like William Wallace
Send your body off to med school for brilliant scholars
We bout to stab 'em with 7 daggers like Damien
Triple sixes when 3 biscuits empty out in your cranium
Dark clouds and rainy wind, we aiming these 10's
On dames and they men, leave 'em with flaming skin on they dainty limbs
Front line gunners, we dump 9's in the fronters
Son of Sam handguns, the grunt mind of a hunter
Son, we Leatherface butchers in bloody aprons, blood he craving
Muddy beige Timbs, put a rusty blade in that slut he chasing
Tool shed tools, embedded inside her dude's head
No Vital Signs, this be the title up in the news spread

โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics

[00:11.64] My ratchet exhales lead, cleaving, my hatchet's leaving a trail of red
[00:14.30] Catching cerebrum from a detached female head
[00:16.89] Apache walking through the cornfield, I was born real
[00:19.42] Wielding a morning star, You're left torn and peeled on the floor, kneeled
[00:22.08] Cold aggressor, buck the 3 pound off at you like Roth in Little Odessa
[00:25.45] Guillotine your crown off with a clothes dresser
[00:27.42] The Hades gatekeeper, Hatebreeder, breaking your face
[00:29.91] I'm blatantly crazier, straigh razor your trachea
[00:32.52] Pulp plops on your shirt, bloody red polka dots
[00:35.09] The unfed vulture plots murder, dead your folks while you watch
[00:37.57] Assasinated with acid, fascinated with drilling
[00:40.25] Lacerated you bastard, masturbated to killing
[00:42.74] Your fucking life X'd out, flexin' axe like Dexter
[00:45.51] Slash you with Plexiglas, black bury you like a texter
[00:48.25] Fuck what you're selling, you'll get bucked in your melon
[00:49.80] Metall pellets stuck in your cerebellum, once you're abducted like Helen!
[00:53.08] Cut your head off, bust the lead off, now get off
[00:56.76] The dick money, you don't know me, keep it moving homie
[00:58.38] The Godfathers' henchmen are drenched in your blood, did I mention?
[01:01.54] When G and Nec in the room, it's High Tension!
[01:14.48] Killer team, guillotines and gallows
[01:16.32] 40 caliber, loaded with Calicos, on barrel and mallet mode
[01:19.75] Calluses of malice grow, Molotov bottle your ballad flow
[01:23.36] Death on a pale horse, the gallop slow
[01:25.01] Blade of my Excalibur glow like William Wallace
[01:27.55] Send your body off to med school for brilliant scholars
[01:30.35] We bout to stab 'em with 7 daggers like Damien
[01:32.73] Triple sixes when 3 biscuits empty out in your cranium
[01:35.38] Dark clouds and rainy wind, we aiming these 10's
[01:38.04] On dames and they men, leave 'em with flaming skin on they dainty limbs
[01:40.49] Front line gunners, we dump 9's in the fronters
[01:43.22] Son of Sam handguns, the grunt mind of a hunter
[01:45.64] Son, we Leatherface butchers in bloody aprons, blood he craving
[01:48.58] Muddy beige Timbs, put a rusty blade in that slut he chasing
[01:51.55] Tool shed tools, embedded inside her dude's head
[01:53.63] No Vital Signs, this be the title up in the news spread
[02:17.13]

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