Gore Elohim - Videotapes lyrics

[Verse 1: Jak Tripper] Yo, I'm on harbor like Lovecraft and Dunwich Spaced out like the [?] Lacing blunts at the commune dusted Abuse of prescription pills wrenching my stomach A gore-a-phobics stuck out the house like walk the Hudson Dump pain buckets Slumped over the floor huffing Eyes sunken like two black holes punched in I don't rock Converse cause I ain't Emo, I'm f**ing Grunge b**h Grunge is dead Pull out my devil worship and s** it f**ing USA Supercoven A pig vomit, stuffed in sheep guts like haggis, horse dung, and donkey dung buzzes [Verse 2: Gore Elohim] 50 cal bust a motor, watch you slumped over We cut vulvas, ceremonies, exotic sofas Weekends we on speedboats I'm in the hood, caked up, girls' hair covered my f**ing peacoat Surgery smoke We worship Satan in seed loads Text watch and 60 embedded cult primo Expectant mothers always need tokes, Buick Regals Luminous selling bad dope to good people Black impiety Goat slime a cathedral Rap ecologist acknowledge evil in regal beagle Demented retribution, Jak Tripper rock the desert Take a part of your face off like drunk Chevies I never had a license so it can be it ain't a felony I crush the elderly under tires, to be a f**ing watermelon [Verse 3: Jak Tripper] Everybody grab a head on a stick, let's build a shrine I k** kids and weird wiggers asphyxiation stimuli Colonists missing fine Pa**ages see missing fit for dimes Picked up nine Dumped 'em into a pit divine We visited different sites Sticks and leaves lifted pickup hides In a course forbidden we thought moving an ear wakes a sign They did swatting flies in a band sipping Codeine-smoking trip sniffing white Bundles of black sir k** the youth from TV reigns gun all the trackers I clip C a lots hit the communes soaking spice and muscle relaxers [Verse 4: Gore Elohim] It's the pagan machete trades k** it with Amazing Grace Have to return some videotapes, it closes at eight Manson wig being slicked back Cake blood on my teeth Old Cherokee with the ski rack Michel wells [?] close tickle bundles with g-packs Home invasions, I rocks a three-piece suit My dick gets hard from blood bubbles and brain stew The taste of cadavers is similar to fondue Peter Fonda meets Fenders, homie, that's Gore too Prefer my violent figured my victims are timid Either tear a monster standing up or Kathy Lee Gifford Found a new bathtub, bringing your bathrom to bed sty I'm in the jungle, looking for d**h like Left Eye Hit your family for ten-five Any shots a super-sidekicks watching disorderlies Blowing b**hes our recepients f**ing Yiddish mommies and Portugese They call me Plague Boss You'll die in shame like the son of Madoff Liquefy your face off like chicken fried steak sauce I lost faith in God so I walk the left path Christ is sh**, cash from raving fiends who sniff gla**