Vinnie Paz — Death By Guillotine

No, not too much is new I'm so fucking high I'mma spit a bomb verse D-Motherfucking-Moz nigga Cyssero, Vin, Some real shit right here baby Problem [Verse 1: Demoz] Look, ever feel suicidal to the point that you tried it And when they asked you about it, you don't know how to deny it Doc all in your face, asking what is the motive You got split personalities and it's hard to control 'em Taking xans and percs, drinking liquor and beer Feeling sick to your stomach, trying to shift through the gears On a slippery rope, plus your vision is blurry Worst case scenario, they'll miss you after you're buried Wife fucking your man, brother, stuff in the jam Thought and starred at your pictures, like where the fuck is my dad I'm a problem atomic, trying to rhyme with these chickens Shit 'em out in the morning and take a piss on the omelet Made an honesty promise, I ain't gotta be modest I ain't got to be parted, this whole economy's garbage I'm a comet in space, I ain't part of this land I'm a fuckin' two-face, why would you call me your man [Hook] Tongue twisted like Pun digging my tongue tissue It's one missile, we blow you to little lunch issues We fuck with you, we came with you but left dolo We stuck with you on one issue, we reign solo We through a bomb in the parade at these gay homos We manic (???), how the fuck are they gonna break kodos? Freddy roaching a corner, cause we ain't saying nothing And we just sitting there twitching like we sniffing our caine, bugging [Verse 2: Cyssero] Creep quiet, but that chopper loud (you know how we do) Look, the way I perform with that K that'd rock a crowd Mask and glove when I squeeze them slugs Make a bloodbath, we gonna need a tub Shit, we riding dawg When we catch his ass let that Super-Soaker wet his ass Dry him off, military tactics Moving silent dawg Paint the neighborhood red when that iron drawn Yeah, DaVinci of the gun-slinging, shots make a bastard leak Make a masterpiece, get your casket dropped That's the art of war, bang at the targets (???) war, then burn the bodies, what you need a coffin for If you ain't built for all that, what you talking for (be quiet) Yeah, tell your homeboy calm his mad Unless he want a fuckin' problem on his hands (for real) [Hook] [Verse 3: Vinnie Paz] Yeah, Pazienza put the torch to him Young rap version of Dr. Kevorkian This pussy done, put a fork in him Or I'mma have to let the .44 bark at him He better pray he got a squad with him Like the proletarian revolution of Marxism Put your body in the star system Reveal itself as bleeding light, Allah wisdom Bullets fast when they travelling The silencer is strong and it's long like a javelin Now he dead put a bag in him Green from the dope fine lean, and the scag in him I hold the ratchet unorthodox Pernell Whitaker, ducking all sorts of shots Various types of torture plots And I'mma ride till I die and the coffin drops