Rozz Dyliams - Paramedics lyrics

Steppin to mine You will find d**h and fantasy intertwined Deep inside tales of the k**er that walk in the corn stalks late at night Some in the air say it just ain't right and what you feel is not a test Committing surgery on you busters, when the hatred make me stressed Chopping you into confetti, with the machete, into a bloody mess Never mistarget as if i was sparking hollow point ballistics up into your head Hit up your funeral, just to laugh, as they lower you cold and dead You say you want wicked sh** but you don't really want it when you see just how wicked it gets There ain't no safety when Dylan gets pissed I'm drowning you b**hes in piss, after you get pissed to whipped to sh**, I'll have you wishing You could give your children one more kiss I'll send your baby mama your severed dick in the mail But the rest of you coming up missing You tied to a chair with the tank top and gasoline all dumped all over you about to get lit Enemies burn, when u turn You don't know hatred, watch and learn Imma let the missile sizzle till u grissle in the urn Come feel my deadly words, my fantasies consist of you and your homies faces crying slowly dragging on the curb All you see is d**h, when u look into my eyes Rigor mortis creeping, feeling stiffing up your spine Eyes opened, fingers twitching shaking, then you die Will your spirit drift away or get caught up in ledawy Eyes opened wide, on the dead person was the only thing that ever scared me as a child but now its old mind Life is fine, buckin these b**hes down before they waste my time But i take my time to leave the paramedics baffled asking why Think you a k**er, but you're just a [?] nothing to a k**er like Dylan Ross Jumping up on the scene looking meaner with every step i walk Gangsta walking, lets get buck, put your sign, throw a four f** the rapping lately, I've been doing human butcher work Evil man in delicatessence since the the Castle of Depression Moving on to bigger and better things to keep my pocket stretching Stretching just like spandex money bag In another bank i keep on grinning Keep on sinning, knocking busters off and breaking down their women Most these b**hes think they something Because they got female genitals I don't give a f** you idiot, bring me money b**h You still ain't special You don't get no special treatment Treat these b**hes just like rags Act up ho and deal with this cuz i dont deal with all of that Haters talk sh** until Dylan come up from the ashes and then they start falling back Don't come to me or no studio, G If you want your wifey and your daughter back Strangled f**ed and hacked to pieces Treating them just like the twamper sack Family vacation, destination meathook where you'll all be at All you see is d**h, when u look into my eyes Rigor mortis creeping, feeling stiffing up your spine Eyes opened, fingers twitching shaking, then you die Will your spirit drift away or get caught up in ledawy Eyes opened wide, on the dead person was the only thing that ever scared me as a child but now its old mind Life is fine, buckin these b**hes down before they waste my time But i take my time to leave the paramedics baffled asking why