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son of a devil - sykadelix lyrics

in the beginning every demon was an angel till we grabbed our halos & stopped them out like play*doh while we made jokes
i slay those that come & try to front & smile while i smoke a c*nt like a mothaf*cken blunt
trust, it was a mistake coming to the devil’s playground
they told you not to make sound now it’s time for you to lay down
so pray now or get your soul eaten after you’re beaten
love to peep then creep on a mothaf*cka in a jeep & leave em sleeping
a strap i’m keeping, ready to bury you 6 feet deep
and i’m the demon that satan has been seeking
the screaming in my head never stops, i want them dead f*ck the props & the cops. stay on top, never drop
keep f*ckin around & get popped
don’t wanna have to mop, i still gotta hit the shop
never cough when i got the weed in my system, i’m putting clips in em
i ain’t spittin bars, spittin venom. i k!ll em

all of a sudden mothaf*ckas think they’re ready to test me or press me but no emcee can impress me
check my rep g, satan prepped me
i was set free that’s why i be packin a tech see? h*ll is empty
if only the devil would let me posses your father, making him beat your mother & raping his own mothaf*cken daughter
now you’re a goner
no more house, add the slaughter
but gotta remember to keep trucha with the helicopters
coppers tried to run up but i guess my clip was longer
cannibalism after murder is necessary & proper
the chopper will never catch me, see i’m to fast g
wouldn’t be able to k!ll me even if they blast me cus i’m an evil demon screamin since i was s*m*n
f*ck your preachin, souls i’m reapin
i’m feedin but you can call it leechin
while tortured you’re screamin, i’m screachin
sleep with your face half eaten, well i mean if seeing is believing
mistreating wussy p*ssies in the ghetto, son of the devil
born a rebel, i’m on another level
talking about we got a score to settle?
beheading kids & thugs to black metal, i’ll make the mothaf*cken earth tremble
i’m not mental, i’m wicked
i’m f*ckin twisted, i was born this way it’s not a sickness
i’m a true native of h*ll so might as well grab a crucifix, scope the bruised fists before you ask “who’s this?”

- sykadelix lyrics

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