SLAINE - Bloody Sunday lyrics

Published

0 432 0

SLAINE - Bloody Sunday lyrics

[Verse 1: Everlast] Bloody Sunday, Black Sabbath The Pope's a paedophile with a drug habit We're all clinically depressed They got us all manic We keep swallowin' they pills so we don't f**in' panic Run for the hills, grab ya automatic Bring your big black boots, ya fighting gloves Psycho Realm's in the house screamin' out [f** love] Sick Side in the house screamin' out [f** love] Ayo, back from the dead, back at it again It's the anti-Christo with the antigen Punk I'll take yo pistol, give it back an' then If you act up again, you gettin' clapped my friend This Coka familiar, five alone will k** ya King Kong ain't got sh** on this here guerrilla Cla**ic Off The Wall like Mike from Thriller A monster in the legend, hail this Godzilla [Hook: Sen Dog] (x2) We got the heat for the streets The bag for the drop The kid bloody blow out your back with the pump The move and the shake The move and the wake Welcome to hell, the Devil's here to open the gate [Verse 2: Ill Bill] They say hip hop's hanging from a noose like Saddam Hussein But LCN make you jump around like House of Pain I take it back like purple rain envelopes Crazy Eddy episodes, break and enter hoes Every record sold's equivalent to coke, homie Welcome to the Terrordome I'm inappropriate like Kramer with a megaphone Black and fire, steel, my mind's ill Got you on a mission like a crackhead to find krillz [Verse 3: Big Left] I come from a place where the apocalypse is now Armaggedon, Nostradamus called it, you are now with the rawest It's unwarming light, sun turned to God, God turned to son Murder one, no match, no blood and no gun Fire and brimstones, stem cell clones Mini-microphones implanted deep in your bones They tappin' the phones, mapping the homes (clappin' the chromes!) Ding-dong, click-clack, one in the back of the dome [Hook] (x4) [Verse 4: Slaine] I'm a rebel poet, my words treated like it's contraband I'm unresponsive to taunts of critics and wants of fans Angelic demonic chronic writer, a haunted man Mongrel monster with the murderers on conquered land I grew around some johns is junkies with bumpkin scams Bar brawls, broken bottles, banging, and launching hands My shifty plans turn a risky chance to fifty grand Double it, watch these sissies stand in your pissy pants This game is gettin' me baptised, we bad guys Choose sides and yous guys is enemies or allies La Coka Nostra is a brand you can trust To roll with a pack of animals with cannons to bust [Hook] (x4)