Lil Jack - Bad Habit lyrics

[Hook] They say I'm a addict, got bodies in my attic I admit I got his habit, detachin' sh** with this hatchet Wakin' up gaspin', thinkin' of caskets Practice black magic in masks, ma**acre We murder men in body bags soaked in gas Yeah, addict, bodies in my attic I admit I got his habit, detachin' sh** with this hatchet Wakin' up gaspin', thinkin' of caskets Practice black magic in masks, ma**acre We murder men in body bags soaked in gas b*tch [Verse 1] I turn this night club into a fight club The gauge'll blow yo chest out, blame that white stuff Got a n***a geekin', leave 'em leakin' Ain't no tellin' what we thinkin' Russian AK blow yo face away, J-A-K Manson We come for yo life, bloody sacrifice Scream n***a, not a dream n***a, infrared lights Bury them badly beaten bodies, call 'em skeletons Pull up then we pop out leavin' bodies lyin' everywhere Masked up, banana clips, blow will get yo family k**ed Best to come equipped or have a whip full of hollow tips Bodies under my belt, I got bodies off in my trunk If them police pull me over then I'm f**ed [Hook] They say I'm a addict, got bodies in my attic I admit I got his habit, detachin' sh** with this hatchet Wakin' up gaspin', thinkin' of caskets Practice black magic in masks, ma**acre We murder men in body bags soaked in gas [Verse 2] They say I'm a k**a my n***a I'll leave ya dead before the sun rise Walk up to yo house, turn that b**h into a bonfire Barbwire fetish, blowin' lettuce, smoking gunfire Dumb high, shawty say "They shootin'! Duck! Return fire!" On the corner: pump toters, co*k and leave 'em slumped over n***as dyin' everyday, least that's what my pops told us Blood all over my shoes, suffer from substance abuse They say I'm losin' my mind, b**h I ain't got sh** to lose! My neighbors confused, they want my head in a basket See my face on the news, I left that a** in a casket Manson a**a**in blast, need that a** in a trance Break out them body bags and bloody murder man dance [Hook] They say I'm a addict, got bodies in my attic I admit I got his habit, detachin' sh** with this hatchet Wakin' up gaspin', thinkin' of caskets Practice black magic in masks, ma**acre We murder men in body bags soaked in gas Yeah, addict