Top Songs By TERROR REID
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tanner Petulla
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tanner Petulla
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
TERROR REID
Producer
Lyrics
(Ay yo)
It's the master wicked, Terror creepin' in ya kitchen
Takin' pictures of yo' bitch, then dippin' with a vengeance
I'll slice you and dice you, entice you to get loose
Then stitch you back together with the laces from ya dad's boots (I'm the-)
I'm the super cooch cougar
Fingerin' ya mom inside tha Uber
Going backwards, fuck Backwoods
I'm pullin' on a flask full of premium gas
In the back of ya class, rockin' an all black ski mask
Coming with the shits that make you vomit
I see you on my dick, well hop up off it
I'm solo dolo for the profit
She make my cock spit (who though?)
Ya bitch do, yo
She on my boat right now, let's see if she can float
I'm sick in the head, twisted like a dread
Terror comin' back from the dead
With a baggie full of lead and red lasers
Settin' fire to ya neighbors
Immune to tazers
Cut ya throat and then I eat the razor
I'm on the other side
Drank too much bleach, finally I died
Every time you look into the sky
You will see my eyes
Starin' back at you
With a .32 cocked
Five knives in my shoes
And a holographic Mewtwo
I'm on the other side
Popped too many pills, thought I'd never die
Fuckin' the reality I left behind
There is no afterlife, just another knife
Waitin' for the psychopathic addict hidin' in ya attic
Plannin' when he's next attackin'
The pathologic, deranged homicidal prophet
Obnoxious enough to stash a kilo in yo' cockpit
I got that sick shit ya hoe be fuckin' with
Knuckle bust ya lip
On an acid trip with all my lasers on my hip
They call me King Koopa, the chemical abusa
I'm pullin' up on yo' ass with the .44 to shoot ya
'Cause I got the juice like Bishop
Comin' to fix yo' bitch's makeup
Then make her hiccup in ya bed before ya wake up
I'm goin' off like a motherfuckin' sprinkler
Make ya knees weak before I cut you with a cleaver
And put ya body in my backpack, strapped with a fat gat
And a dead cat hangin' from my fanny pack
Doin' about a hundred with you in the trunk
Now hold on tight, because I'm 'bout to hit this gnarly speed bump
Hear you scream and beg for mercy, but I told you not to snitch
If you actin' like a bitch
You get fucked like a bitch
I'm on the other side
Drank too much bleach, finally I died
Every time you look into the sky
You will see my eyes
Starin' back at you
With a .32 cocked
Five knives in my shoes
And a holographic Mewtwo
I'm on the other side
Popped too many pills, thought I'd never die
Fuckin' the reality I left behind
There is no afterlife, just another knife
Waitin' for the psychopathic addict hidin' in ya attic
Plannin' when he's next attackin'
Writer(s): Tanner Petulla
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