Salar - Nonterraqueous lyrics

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Salar - Nonterraqueous lyrics

Yo,I'll have your f**ing face strapped to a stove Watch your brain matter splatter And that sh** sprays as I stand laughing in smoke I'm the ba*tard you loathe surprising your wife in the night Snatching her clothes and ramming my shaft in her throat Then kidnap her and go to an old mansion And start demanding a bold ransom of platinum and gold Dismantle her nose and for every day you're late I'll send you a split fragment of bone attached to a note A psycho lyricist, gets high off the cries of innocence I swiped the chalice of life and pissed in it I write rhymes hidden in the room ----? With no light and listen in to the silence lingering My mind is sickening, I'm the type of invalid To spike your b**h's drink with a pint of nitroglycerin The hydro's kicking in, tripping off vike in a knife fight Did a viking [??] and sticking a trident into him A manical shaman with plant and animal shavings I craft black magic and practice on cavemen Commanding waves of advancing spacemen The galactic battle waiting to attack after I say when It's madness to hate Sen Any f*ggot that plays games will get slapped in the face with a weight bench Dragged in a lake by eight men I'm such a hard-hearted ba*tard I'll charge my fam cash to remain friends I'm celibate, nah I'm telling fibs I f**ed the reverends b**h then confessed my sin for the hell of it Put pressure on the pencil tip my only press is sensitive Yet the most intensive script is expressed with it My head can spit excellence at an executioner For up to seventy seconds after he severed it It's definite, I've got you questioning what the meaning of impressive is And even if it's best you quit, you can't F with this A savage castaway in an angry state Banished to an everlasting fate of wrath and hate I'll crack your face take before and after pics And scan them sh**s on an acetate I'll even have it framed, fax it straight to every head of state Who'll declare a national laughing day I'm raw ? I got more hard than Ca**ius clay More arms than Bonaparte's English channel raid I think this man's insane I'm the murderous type to look him a man firm in his eye and burn him inside I serve in a merciless tribe Searching every speck of dirt on the earth for a sign of the birth of a Christ The forming circle of bright lights and every verse I recite Incites a white bird to emerge in the sky And I'm the worst person to fight In the flesh I'm ten times worse than anything that you've heard in this rhyme