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exe degree - hex.exe lyrics

[verse 1]

hex.exe:

sn-tchin illegally, get in to trouble and gunning with thugs
trafficing people and packing ’em heats full and smuggling drugs
never a fan of it, what i have in my cabinet’s
a collection of weapon i gathered to cause a family m-ssacre

seventy limbs of every women i severed with daggers
i’m adding your head in, flatten with a metal mallet
i challenge any untalented motherf-cker to tell it
if i ain’t intellegent enough for me to step or ever win

infused with adrenalin too much abuse of this ritalin
you’re finna credit every sentence i threw at em jealous and
stupid f-ckers, i’m influencin you with cannibalism
craving for human flesh is the newest fetishism

haters too i have to diss em, i’ma grab a bag of missiles
-ss-ssinate and castrate em with blade and add the scissors
s-d-stic antagonist who’ll rape and har-ss them b-tches
embar-ss you till everyone you know forget your -ss existed

attacked them in my last visit and fracture with an axe k!ll ’em
intestine is in the gl-ss, you’re finna get crashed
vision as i slash ya head and your legs put em in a plastic
and laugh, clean up the mess

har-ss b-tches is what i do, i wanna screw your mother too
in front of you, your corpse is in the other room
shut up for 2 seconds, i’m here to produce records
that cause you to lose battles and juice and get booed f-ggots

[verse 2]

3rd degree:

wrapping up rappers with wrapping papers n scotch tape…
capping up cappers, napping, nappers..haters are squashed grapes…
blood flyin everywhere…the smell of death in the air…mud flyin, tires
slidin, i’m tryin, get outta there…

splitting up papers after hitting up capers and,..
8 to12 bands for every man, that’s alotta grands…
on a tropical island,.sip corona’s on that good life..
when the paper gets low, go get mo, you know, “hood life”…

sk!llz that pay the billz..murder with melee k!llz..
crack lyrics like day to day..gotta say that’s how great it feelz…
i’m here just to p-ss the time..a lyrical mastermind…
a plastered b-st-rd, get plastered faster, cause a dizaster in half the

time..

that’s cause i’m…a wordsmith with this word sh-t…
you ain’t heard a word of 3rd, spittin absurd sh-t?..
like, i’m slangin that white to get green…know what i mean?
white n green, call it hustlin bird sh-t…bwoi…

mess around, get that -ss kicked..even worse
shots burst when i pull up on that -ss quick, fast sh-t…
i ain’t fake, don’t make the mistake, go to ya wake and put 50 more in ya
casket…ya bastad..

get a headache when ya head break…
f-ck around, be on the ground, outlined in dead tape…
or thrown in the back of that chevy truck, heavy as f-ck…cause now yo -ss
is just dead weight..ha!..

thought i forgot about that rhyme huh?..
it’s like i kept goin then decided to go back in time huh?..
that’s what you call spittin flame rhymes..
that’s when i look at people,they be like, what the f-ck’d he just say rhymes?

yeah, i do it all the time..it’s too d-mn easy bro!..
i’ll blow ya f-ckin mind, people don’t believe me tho…
but i’ma let em all decide for they self, rockin the glock, top shelf
makin em die for they wealth

i’m comin in stealth..so don’t trip, cause i’m gonna win..
hide in trunks, robbin punks when they slip an get done in…
it’s a fact…i’ll spit a clip thru ya whip..all the way from the back, to
that m-th-f-ckin front end

yeah…and the middle is history..a little riddle unresolved, a little
unsolved mystery…
i think you should try more..come thru my side door..die on my floor..get bruised and die sore..

flesh tore..oh what..an eyesore..givin ya mom a lil somethin to cry for…
man, it’s that g sh-t..3rd deĝree sh-t..don’t you ever, never, ever, f-ck wit me sh-t…

take my grip out, suppressed so ain’t no sound with it
naw, i’ll take my clip out, i guess i’ll beat you down with it..
yo hood is no good, take all a yo goods, hide you in those woods
tell em a f-ckin clown did it!!..crown splitted, astounded and found
sh-tted…beaten…hidden beneath leaves and small sticks, you’ll be eatin
meat thru a straw til ya jaws fixed, aww sh-t
you some small sh-t, soft babydoll sh-t..i was not gonna get hot, or spit
or spit…any flame at all sh-t, it’s just a silly habit, i’m so silly, no really, silly f-ggot

all i do is spit raw sh-t, put yo head thru a wall makin yo m-th-f-ckin skull split
i call sh-t like i see sh-t..so just quit all a y’all lil small sh-t, flea sh-t..
these bars here be that raw sh-t, g sh-t..flames that freeze, freeze frames when flames freeze…sh-t!!!

- hex exe lyrics

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