Hut 1, 2, 3, Hut 1, 2 / this is my rifle this is my gun / this ones for fighting this one’s for fun /

It’s the battle hymn / lock and load / mashing down Babylon / distant drums / on the frontline / guns of Navarone / scream my name / who am I / ritualistic suicide / in the killing fields / let the tempers fly / do or die /

Ay yo, this Max Pain blacksmith / swinging his swords and axes / attacks with these rap tactics and casts his acid / corroded batteram crashes to ass backwards / until the masses back flip upon a broken axis / this open abscess swallows you whole and closes caskets / and my semantics define your soul in throes of madness / gallons of Absinthe, sugar cubes, explosive gasses / and a pack of open matches that catches the firestorm we raining down like avalanches / over your black list / and the fact is you can’t add up what I’ve subtracted / this mathematical abbot savagely clashes with you fascist bastards to tag up the abacus amateurs vanish / taking the four corners of this atlas / just like the Spanish when Cortez conquered the Aztecs / speed of light and even faster than fast gets / shattering your soul before I liquidate your assets /

Come see my pride is bulletproof glass and jazzy like cantaloops / I’ve had the juice entranced while you been dangling by the hangman’s noose / man the decks / plan to lose / the alchemy of homicide / and I ain’t giving a damn about death yet, cuz I’m alive / to bring the sounds of fleets of war ships / watch your steps else sink into the murky depths once the storm hits / either that or forfeit / try to battle God when he’s lost it / then rot with the skeletons inside your closet’s crawlspace / don’t clown around like John Wayne Gace / cuz I just come to spill your blood and see how the stains taste / cannibal, inflict the lockjaw at the mandible / infallible as rabid animals / so try your luck to bite / psych / and I’ll erupt with a better style / running wild, I come to break souls like a pedophile / Optimist plans the strategy now check the vile / V.I.T.A.L. Emcee cast the weak into exile /

Sniper scope shots by the third light of your cigarette / blast your Adam’s Apple out the back of your shivering neck / hit the deck, the general motions to get respect / so all your bloodletting threats gets my intellect erect / been in effect since the growth spurt of my syntax / 21 gun salutes verbally make the clips clap / playing click clack upside your tired pimp hat / and since that style is getting old, I’m taking this shit back / cuz my tongue weigh a ton / slaying with this wordplay gun spray ricochets and lacerated the sun / maroon moons paint the red before the tainted rum / Armageddon appetites laced by the cadence drum / we been waiting for this day to come / apocalypse now / burn this metropolis down / intelligence and consciousness found / we’re getting nearer / so play this tape back on Al Jazera /

BANG YOUR HEAD