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morning light - diabolic lyrics

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this is a game of cat and mouse where tom murders jerry
and bush urges kerry to rape virgin mary till he bursts the cherry
so i’m emerging every person in the dirt and buried to resurrect get a tech
and follow his mercenary
paid in full, eighth of haze, take a pull; with an army of raging bulls
and wolves draped in wool
got metaphors coming off the head like devil’s h-rns
acting foul, won’t crack a smile unless it’s yours
backed against the wall close calls applying pressure
iron texture, feed fiction to a lie detector
and i bet you i’ll rob anywhere near or next to me
here essentially to take your prophet like the spear of destiny
i’ll appear as a guest for free really i can’t wait to see the look on your d-mn face
when i’m stealing your fan-base
i’m sick enough to hand jake a trail of bread crumbs
lead a new murder scene with rev run chugging redrum
i set the tone like a metronome left alone
on top of the world, with the 3rd rock as a stepping stone
inside the terror dome dna tests have shown
i’m the truth; the rest are just genetic clones of my flesh and bones
that’s why fans react to the livest rappers
by jumping from the highest rafters in the crowd flying past us
the final chapters it was written read the text
or get beat to death and sent to h-ll where demons slept

[hook: repeat 2x]
everyday i wake up at the dawn of morning light
same sh-t different toilet, i got a war to fight
so don’t ask me why i’m p-ssed of in every song i write
cuz diabolic’s been dealing with this sh-t all his life

i’m the style of weapon for a quite war
with the streets i’ve endured
where young bucks will stab you like it’s the vibe awards
connoisseur throw a comet towards new york’s rocking core
open a hole in h-ll’s gate when satan locks the door
moment of truth, pop the 4 like 2pac shakur
chop the h-rns and mop the floor with his spinal cord
my soul is righteous but i’m viper’s token white kid
who’ll grab a cop and choke him lifeless with a broken night stick
i’m have a soulless cobra’s dome closed in vice grips
my fans build statues of me in jehovah’s likeness
but i’m on cloud nine with friends of fairweather
see troubled knees buckle to beneath the air pressure
when hip-hop was raw now it comes from wherever
got some jacob jewels, manicure and a hair dresser
the single reason demons creep in our shows
is cuz my plans complete when i brand the beast with a barcode
satan wants our souls offered as dirt cheap
but i ain’t selling sh-t like jin’s album the first week
so make some noise for church priests raping boys
that make the choice to slit his throat when he raised his voice
send me to h-ll f-ck it cuz when i kick the bucket
i’ll find who birth the anti-christ and kick her in the stomach
so when motherf-ckers shout at me and run they mouth
add ’em to the list of sh-t i don’t giva f-ck about

[hook]

all my motherf-cking life man
i’ve been at war; i’ve been a soldier on the front lines
foul play b-tch
wake the f-ck up or get woke the f-ck up

diabolic
mentat
beat asylum, motherf-cka

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