madmans quickie

where do I begin I'm open stabbin into the heart till copin rapping into the Mike till broken slapping into the face till woken tokin like it's laced corrodin lungs and I bet my taste errodin cause all that I taste is human waste cause i spit that shit right in your face as I pace to taste blood case there's none race like base gun glitch haze from bass done lacin mace on gazin face nun actin like you holy your right cause I'm unloading catch a cork in your aboading pop pop that's macaroni noodle paste and cheddar leaving wetter bed er toilets if my setter hasn't been controlled by a corrector lecture of how to get like lecter septer in my hand turn it into wrecker of skulls when the dull blabber makes me mad and weaks your bladder reeks of matter when that brain splatters from the sledgehammer type swinging of the septer just to see high velocity spatter fresh off that 50-1-50 better call a crypt meat because I'm chopping crypt meat