Evil Dead - The Da Vinci Code lyrics

[Intro:] *Actually, technically speaking he's, not really a murderer* *He never k**ed anyone* *He finds ways for his victims to k** themselves* [Verse 1: Bomshot] A rap phenomenon, I skin rappers and use 'em as pages in my rhymebook like the Necronomicon Through each phase of time I vent these modes Mathematically precise like The Da Vinci Code I see celesial beings when I stare at the stars I wonder how long [?] they built the pyramids on Mars Dropping observations since birth the cops watched me Giving lyrical lobotomies [?] autopsies Area 51 is where they run mad experiments f** around and give your a** an out-of-body experience I need to fight, so when I squeeze the mic It causes my rhymes to travel faster than the speed of light You'll bleed tonight, best believe these shots hurt you Leave my rhymes carved on your chest just like crop circles Decapitations, how I took off the head And you can still read about them in the Book of the Dead [Hook: several samples and scratches] Proceed with caution Carrying heavy still Pull out and load up the nine Don't give a f** about nothing [Verse 2: Jus Allah] You can't handle it, you can't keep your candle lit I'm a black amulet, you're a piece of camel sh** All you hear, is the hammer kick All you see, is the [?] then camera clicks Knock 'em down just as high as they can build 'em The slavemaster just set me free and I still k**ed him I'll f** his children, you know I got the best feeling [?] f**ing feet to the ceiling I try to stand back from the devil's [?] Rival god in [?] The blind don't walk on the street In the jungle the lions don't talk to the sheep Motherf**ers is weak I wanna f**ing laugh so bad, I s** on my cheeks Ask Allah why I f** white b**hes She ain't never seen a dick over nine inches [Hook] [Verse 3: Evil Dead] Sharper image, [?] when I sparks the blizzard Talk is sniffing, y'all got my nostrils itching Boston fitteds, long tees and Adidas Rhyme for their kicks, car keys and they beep us Jeepers creepers, street dreams and the savior Sleep for three days and then I'll peep y'all on Easter ([?] Cristo) Pleased to meet ya Evil Dead breeze through your streets with the mean cleavers [?] armed sneakers Shower clock speakers and out the box heaters You not to be confused with you lost cause schemers Hotbox with rocks in the drop caught Beemers Chop shop skeezers, geishas, [?] Papi need to feed off the [?] the god reach ya Talk is cheaper, to each day on, preach on And who [?] [Hook]