The Chosen Few (feat. Mr. Hyde, Danny Diablo & Ill Bill)

I seen visions from beyond the grave Tyrants on thrones made of arms and legs I'm in a Benz powered by the hearts of men We the chosen few, we swim among the sharks again We the murderers in your crib with a shotgun to your head Ski-mask on, Mexican wrestler steez, lucha libre Goons and creeps squeeze off Uzis and AK's We maintain, we play the game Raising the stakes, raised by a nation of snakes Fascinated with hate Sub harmonic, politicking, guns, and chronic Pussy and tonic, vodkanomics Orgies with Playboy models accomplished Moshpits in front of ten thousand kids We're the most brolic, we subsonic, ultramagnetic You get your fucking head split Like Necro said, I need drugs, faggot, we negative We're number one with hollow tip bullets and bangers Leave you looking like Bud Dwyer in front of the cameras In the previous chapters of my life I was mischievous Running with gun clappers, packing knifes and meat cleavers Doing devious shit you'd see on CBS News at night Guess what? I'm still on that Brooklyn b.s I'm into the exciting aspects of blasting Tecs And fighting for respect, fuck getting my ass kicked I'm slashing your neck before entering a casket I'm cashing a cheque for a million, I'm a demented bastard The inventor of death rap shit With the incentive to blend hip hop and metal riffs Connecting with legends, mergers, and acquisitions That make killings like murders and apparitions Disaster funk my gats get crunk We're killing rats, I'll leave you like Billy Bats in the trunk We're on the other end of the spectrum I recommend you rock this shit Till your nose bleeds from deviated septum Brain-splattered butchery, we're blood bath and bile We stomping through your hood with guns blasting wild SMG's, nobody's fucking with me The slug-chucker release, you'd better duck near a tree Hold heat like summer time, bullets from my gun'll fly Torture you in intervals, it takes a corpse to mummify Shove my blade in your waste, I'm as dangerous as AIDS It's amazing how my 12 gauge splits open your face Get yourself a better vest, got Berettas and Tecs That'll have both of your arms crossed like the letter X Kid your jewelry's lusted so you're brutally busted Fucking shooting a musket cause it's cool to be dusted Beautifully rusted box cutters'll catch ya All over your chest just to spill out your ketchup Your heart's missing blood cause I sipped it with straws Take a clip out of my Taurus then I'm licking it off Your whole view might distort when you spew pints and quarts If you don't find the gores, it's true life is short Known to blaze you with slugs and fucking break a few jugs There ain't no telling what my cranium is capable of I'll probably pull and bust 8, do double bullets up-state Come back and have your fucking wifey, full of duct tape Train fucked and raped, pussy dripping like papaya juice Cut up her face, all homicide is justifiable