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skeptics apocalypse - goretex lyrics

skeptics apocalypse lyrics
verse 1:

my chariots like wyclef, my tour bus smelly, likes broccoli at the food machine i need more jelly, the skeptics apocalypse, henny blood shakes heavy, my uncle mike caught a murderer with sheepskin reggie
shot the prison up, laughing gas mask, with a cheaper dutch, doom rap, my goons’ traphouse eat the (inaudible) junks, sister christian, rick james beads, vaya con coke, dolores bags will launder that soap, medina dope
hang the pope, back with the mac in a tenspeed, 5802 farragut road where the pimps be, *rs*nals like combat murray, guns all flurries, never drop the matzah you can die in a hurry, i rock the new tacchini (inaudible), mexican drugstore, cut you in your expedition, pass it to bloodsport

chorus (x2):

my cult poppin’ that glock, my cult worship satan, my cult loves being watched, my cult carve your face in, my cult huggin’ the block, my cult devastation, my cult world war gore, no time for elevation

verse 2:

celebratin’ blood orgies and witch doctors, i don’t rep for scientologists i ain’t buyin’ the product, travolta fly you to mars in his jet you can ride for 80 mill, i am (inaudible: froze) with laser beams and shady grills. bloods and crips got cocaine for cia, colombian farmers got 85 cents a day, sammy davis f*cked jane up in the (inaudible) crib, i wish i had the footage when jmj was f*cking k!lled. glenwood projects thrash, to paul barrens, skate like paul barrens, cult kids we posh grabbers, sports handlers, acid tabs, w*lly wonkas, you get your brain squashed out lookin’ like jimmy changas, graphite powder, fingerprints depicted, burgery victims, my projects murder for new prescriptions

chorus (x2)

verse 3:

cut the lamb with seven arms, seven eyes and seven blessings, my chest covered with twenty pounds fully connected, the specialist, the ‘merican terrorist, send you to major dispensers so the population is shrinking. bombs to marcussons, i’m b*tter like tim osmonds, cinematography, i paint pictures reaganomics, some underground like cheney bunkers and cures for hodgkins, my goons fly to new york strictly to cop rugers
under the radar, we paranoid type but still ruthless, constellations align when you get the right shooters, grandpops, he died in his room wearin’ my blue pumas, (inaudible: we lost students hashem rusin’ the boar judas), bury him in his favorite suit at 50 grams, forty loan with the casket i said goodbye and kissed his hand, my heart pumps strychnine, my hate vegetates, from times square to tirān we detonate

chorus (x2)

- goretex lyrics

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