Blue Sky Black d**h - What Can the Matter Be lyrics

(Intro: Holocaust) The Holocaust, the Holocaust, the Holocaust The Holocaust... (Holocaust) A bat lives by hearing, the mother eats the moths and nats She captures in full flight I pull a knife or a gun, you're watching a bullfight Then I strike in hood at night, printed on the moon in good heights My gun is a revolver type, there is no other man as hype As the Holocaust, despite hound An Italian maids woman dropped her pail to the ground When she saw a bloody mess as she heard a sharp sound The weight found, then I escaped the town Cyclone MC, many bones are thrown for me, a lot to eat You rock to sleep, from the great caves I stalked in Greece Piece by piece, guarding soldier alone, shown the feast Going to sleep, heads thrown to street Night by themselves, some men retreat Lovely distortion, bloody misfortune, calmly swept off their feet A phenomenon to natural science seek alone discrete Known un-weak, and grown physique A phantom of a person living or dead In a place where his body is known to be From Los Angeles to Manhattan, and back again (Chorus 2X: Holocaust) What Can the Matter Be? What Can the Matter Be? I came from the Wu-Tang Academy Ain't no man mad at me (Holocaust) The nice old innkeeper and his inn, were most You tried to return and found both of which were ghosts Headless heathen and heroic heroes, on his shoulder a crow The undertaker is skilful, the makers of widows Forsaker of the hills behold, nature's criminal Creator of riddles, the breaker of windows Gun will wake an armadillo, your rhyme is less than zero I bust your f**ing head with a bat at the table like Robert De Niro My program is full of firewalls, the rap population plummet American flag of gun love it, a bird is warm blooded In caring for this a gift from Heaven, the dark overlord watched I wield fire sitting on a pillared throne, the f**ing 'Warlock' Edgar Allen Poe died in Baltimore Was found lying outside a voting place Probably on October 3rd, my gunshot through your shoulder hurt The progress seems very slow, your accomplishes may not show Journey into an untouched world of darkness, bro I paralyze my pray and take them to an underground shaft He who laughs best, laughs last The smoke rises forming hours after a triple atomic blast From Los Angeles to Manhattan, and back again (Chorus 4X)