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She sits on a windowsill
Looking down, it's quite a thrill
Imagery
Imagining what is it like to be dead
She walks out upon the ledge
Searching for the living end
She-
Mr. Hyde, your messiah
Necro on production
Brain abduction, check it
Your messiah's arrived, prepare to fire your nine
Make up your mind and decide if you desire to die
By the tyrant of knives, it's Mr. Hyde and I thrive
To put you dead in the dirt, death, to quiet your cries
I'm the scourge of the earth, I've been an urchin since birth
The devil bops his head to this, dancing dirges of hurt
One insult is all it takes and my blade assaults your face
Now I'm feasting on sheep like the ape in altered states
Think that y'all are rolling hard till my nine explodes in jars
I'm giving broken arms like I practice Shotokan
I'll blast your cabbage plot, nothing near your average scar
Leave you for the scavengers, a martyr with your cap and jar
My evil slang consists of backwards Latin languages
Vanquish you with bangers, 'bout to strangle you with blankets, kid
Take a piss on you, bitch, and then I'll lace you with phlegm
Foul like Mordechai and Howie puffing base for Hashem
Leaving you with belly pains, headed to hell in chains
Beat the elderly with canes till I see their smelly brains
You're seeking to live because you're dreaming it, kid
See what the sandman will bring ain't what the demons will give
Your messiah's arrived, prepare to fire your nine
Make up your mind and decide if you desire to die
By the tyrant of knives, it's Mr. Hyde and I thrive
To put you dead in the dirt, death, to quiet your cries
It's Hyde the dream crasher, rare disease caster
Proceed with the rash that seed and breed cancer
The pain's expected, fucking made your wreckage
When I blaze my TEC, kid, it'll cave your chest in
My blade's connected with your face and left it
Greatly twisted, gotta pay to fix it
I'll stick you through your scarf, give your neck a bloody scar
Getting hectic like a baby falling off the monkey bars
Amped on shredding y'all, starve myself till my lungs bleed
The jungle predator, son, I hunt better hungry
Dedicated to sins like separating your limbs
Desecrating your skin by decorating with pins
You undress in confession, getting fucked by a priest
Ain't no rosary beads, I'll have you touching his peach
You think by stepping to me you'll be receiving some props
I'll let my weapon release and now you're bleeding a lot
Your messiah's arrived, prepare to fire your nine
Make up your mind and decide if you desire to die
By the tyrant of knives, it's Mr. Hyde and I thrive
To put you dead in the dirt, death, to quiet your cries
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