Dawn's Symphony by ©XXN1927 Productions
Lyrics
Concussions are apparent as I step out of my casket, fatalities rise and demise becomes my task list/
Releasing a demon on this fuckin mic, ill spit the blood and take my trophey cuz its mine, dykes/
Unorthodox style to split your pugly fuckin faces, blab about your queer fantasies as I replaces/
The faces of you bitches go to tie your pink laces, slap every races to snatch your pearly white cases/
Knowledge I guess your knowledge still increases, after all the different creases that you lickin dead fieces/
My knowledge knows all you do is sit and listen, queer ass has been cristened in a Dillusional Prison/
A firemutt gets on its knees and licks the owners laps, but dont forget to sniff the cracks n lick around the gaps jack/
Not to mention you bitch mounted policeman, consider riding horse dicks your peanut butter and fuckin jam/
You bitches speak of earning money, the best work you do is posting shit on how you wanna bum me/
Pimp is what you wannabe but sorrowly, anus lube cream you used in Knowledge dont count G/
Tell me why I saw you riding ass on a pimp stick, the shit smeared and now you anus is walkin limp/
Fire I spit releases truth in every word is told, spreading death like its a spray can of the cold war/
Speak now or forever hold your mouth closed, cuz im breakin toes and leavin corpes' left to fold/
Whats this 2cents? Cant even by a leaf of hemp and for his torn asshole he still repents/
For a shitty life aint worth livin its evidence, just admit you got a smaller dick than your president/
And whats a made niggah what you like to lick? Right I forgot you a Cock Smokaholic/
Let me see a pic of you and your drupy tits, know you wont get on a mic to have your fuckin pussy fit/
Since im untouchable im breathing nostalgic threads, and splitting heads from start to very end/
And fuck all those Americans and the cell-block, your bitches reek of more fish then a Canadian dry dock/
