Besedila: Heavy Metal Kings. Other. Santa Sangre.

[Verse 1:]
My discipline go beyond the way the army train people, calmly spray people
Devil's horns up like Ronnie James Dio or Tony Iommi, cut your fucking arms off
Stole me a roadie, I'm mob deep like Tony [?]
Trust me idiot, Egyptian god of fire [?] ride ten times higher
Than a soprano in god's choir
A Heavy Metal King like [?] crack on gun metal ring
Settle things like God's prayer and the Devil's wings
We feast at the Last Supper, you hear the last laugh from us
Scrape cash abundant, you hear the gats blast from us
Roll with [?] conquer continents like Genghis Khan
My life is like a Misfits song or like Cypress Hill, hits from the bong
I'm like Ice T six in the morn, police at my door
Shoot the beast in the [?] squeezing the four, creep in the six
Then breeze to L'amour, the Lords of War for four seasons or more
Listen

[Verse 2:]
This is goon music, something for Vinnie gun to clap
Y'all ain't making no progress, y'all still are running laps
I think of y'all like Christ, y'all never coming back
Chainsaws and husky bears without the lumberjacks
[?], Vinnie got a clip full
I'm a let this four-fifth bark like it's a pitbull
Money I got a fistful and I got an razor and it cut like if you skip school
I can be on that fight the power, [?] shit
I can be on that Gucci and on that Prada shit
I can be on that questioning if a god exists
I can be on that punch in your face and rob you shit
That's when motherfuckers starving and such
Dry snitching, all y'all motherfuckers crying too much
Give me a jar and the dutch
I just caught a body and I'm proud of all this rhyming and such, yeah