Marz (Producer) - Body Funk lyrics

And now the moment you've all been waiting for [Hook: Ian] Don't ask me why the body's hacked up in the trunk (You knooow) Psycho k**er, I am crazy Don't ask me why the body's hacked up in the trunk (You knooow) You could be the next one maybe [Verse 1: Damien] I black out when I put a punk in a trunk That's how I f**ed up and got blood on my bumps Keep him tied up, this chump, I'm bout to catch him Take a hatchet to his stomach, rip his guts out, then I strech it Across the alleyway I love d**h in every way And when they start to decay, I still leave em tied and gay Yo, my mind is insane, check your name Claim I ain't poppin thangs with a shirt full of blood stains Your blood drains off my bumper to the ground Who'd a thought I'd hit ya point blank with the cannon round Make sure your body's never found is my objective Play it like a pimp, when I talk to detectives My perspective is stick with duct tape It makes it easier for the c*nt to get raped Don't make the mistake of lettin the b**h loose Keep her hog tied with ya daddy's noose [Hook] [Verse 2: Ian] Aye yo, black duffel bags, AK's, and grenades I be k**ing everybody, but you know it ain't a thing I'll be jackin off in your neices room in the closet Looking at me crazy, but you know you bout to vomit Caught your a** slippin, now you're in my kitchen Cooked up in a pot, sh** so vivid Don't ask me why the body's hacked up in the trunk Rollin through your hood, you can smell the body funk I be chopppin up the people saying that I'm ‘evil' And drop the body parts at a church or a steeple You better f**in run, you better f**in run Gonna run up in your crib, and k** everyone And if you did me wrong, I'm a k** you slowly Fingers, toes, nails, blow me Hackin up the body when I'm playin with the shotty It excites me when your corpse starts rotting [Hook] [Verse 3: Mars] Put your body in the trunk, got f**ed, and I'm dumpin Fifteen inch in the back, your head slumpin Man, it's nothin to murder a b**h Chop the body up in a bag, she ain't sh** Im tired of sleepin the back on the track for bad s** Mad insane creep in it for black rags We got dogs out with dark half, we got a mess And never hesitate to put a slug in yo a** I got a crib for cash for all the body's that I'm stackin Yo b**h up on the block I'm just mackin' She ain't got my scrill the ho's done Creep outta the cloud, let's smoke, I'm on one On three, sh** we finna kick in the door Out the morgue mothaf**a and I'm k**in that ho Yeah I put her body with the rest of em Turning b**hes out and you know I got the best of em [Hook]