Controlin ya image, I finish wipin you out/
hold to ya nose, forgot whatchu was writing about/
the lighting is out, startin hardly breath/
these fumes, for you, stirrin up a snarly sneese/
now I apply, the white dye to ya eyes/
can't hold it in, you moanin tha cries/
hopin to die soon, digesting a tycoon/
leave you to implode in a sad rhyme-tune/

next weapon: An Elevator

wires cut, face struck with insanity...
uve just have had a branch cut from your family...
fall to your death,sudden depression,
till it stalls and your body rests in gods possesion..
hell bound startin cause u aint worth what dropped...
stalled and stopped at the bottom, as you rot the cops find u in parkin lot...

next-a microwave

knock you out, place on a plate, now you sizzilin/
got more beef than a meat slab, if ur inquisitive/
had to end this way, had to write this page/
the wrong punchline has turned you into a sue-flay/(dont know how to spell it)
dark meat, white meat, red meat its all the same/
ima fry you eat half, then re-warm you the next day/


contact lenz - the old kind that were made of hard plastic

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Proud OYD member again . <------- That is whassup

man i got 100 contact lenz that i stole from the retirement home
so i aint gonna fuck around with glocks n bust ya dome
ill fuken tie u down with a fork through ya nuts
n shove every lenz down ya throat till u sick in the guts
for real, killin you is a thrill, ill leave the body on the sidewalk
then go home and chill, on my list ill add another kill, bitch


next weapon- a cadilac

caddilac driving 500 ||miles~per ~hour||
see your brain muscles on the front rear like ||tiles ~on~towels||
you bitch dats what you get..for trying ||to act rough||
cause yah like rambo with~no bandana||mising~head~action||

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man..im too ||ILL|| for word you thought i had ||AIDS|| in my |VOCABULARY||

my pitch fork will molest you..freepost like whoa dude

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Workers Union

SPul is my Bitch.........

ok what is the weapon

fuck that ill make one up. this is how 2 killa man with a paper cut
first u chain that fagget up, like they did in the old days
n paper cut the fool in a million different ways
set a game up wich ya friends 10 points if u make him bleed
shoulda never fucked around with that nigga from ths street
cut the webbing of his toes, make him bleed from the ball sack
this prolly wont kill the man till u send him to a feminist pack
supply them bitches with scissors n a mutha fuken sling blade
hell be screamin out his lungs, horror face expressions bein made
then dump the body at the junkyard get back on them streets n get paid

i been smokin on a fat sack a buddah, so the next weapons gonna be a lit blunt.

im out, peace.

yall came in on my strong point.. weed... haha her we go..

muthafucka dont want none wen im up in they place/
lite it up n blow sum blunt smoke in they face//
ima burn ya fuckin eyes owt n leave permenant scars/
dis is all about tha dro nicca... fuck cigars//
we da new skool so dro is the way of tha streets/
old heads puffin on pipes... knowin they sweet//
crack done played owt so its on to the green/
i love dis shyt dawg.. ima fuckin weed fiend//

next weapon...the trusty swiss army knife

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Wotch as my bottle cap raps, roll over tracks//
Coz 'll leave you wit death 'n thas nuthin' but a fact//
These whack MC'S leave poison in your ear like the sounds of anthrax//
but wit ma bottle cap...
'll block your navel caveties so you can't smell the fear of my anarchy//
coz next 'll be breaking the ground just like fallacy//
and pound by pound 'll saw your whole family down//
untill your unable too see my bottle cap mound!!

Next weaponoor bell

Shit....oh well theres my bottle cap rap

just follow on like nuttin happened

there so many ways to kill a nigga
but the most common way to death is to hold the crome and pull the trigger

theres all type of heat to blow cowards away my personal favorite is the ak-47
couples of shots will have ya body preparing for heaven, and afta u gone u wont be nothin but a memory like the passengers from 9/11

weapon-rope

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yall niggaz just like the u.s.army bein all u can be
but u fuckin wit the king so show respect and bow 2 ya knees

aiight, i got 7 feet of rope n nuthin better to u
so i ring up blaq_ink n say "bitch! ima kill you!"
hang up the fone, n drive to this fools crib
i got no plan of action i figure ill adlib
man, he answered the door that fagget started to run
but i lassood the nigga n shouted "cmon, lets have some fun"
i tied rope around his neck tight n gave him rope burn
kicked out half his teeth, heres a lesson u needa learn
i kept tightenin the rope so hard he couldnt breathe
circulation stopped at his head because the blood couldnt leave
dog, id give it another minute and this kid'll be dead
so i hung the body up n just filled it with lead
i aint got time to wait i got a battle at seven
im outta here, this niggas dead hes gone to heaven

next weapon - u guessed it, an AK 47

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i got a ak that will skin ya face and blow ya body away
i'll have ya family at ya funeral blowin kiss's like J-A-D-A

nigga my bullits reach out and touch the kid like michal jackson
i can ya mans from ya mother end up K.I.A killed in action

so if u real come at me like u loco
and see if i wont put couple of bullit's in ya head band logo

weapon-a rock

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yall niggaz just like the u.s.army bein all u can be
but u fuckin wit the king so show respect and bow 2 ya knees

pick from the ground a weapon of originality//
with that threat he can crown himself king of his family//
shot to the temples once and knocks the head//
left the symbol on the ground next witness of a man dead//
easy attack stealthy so no one hears//
instantly you are the controller of your enemys fears//
ruler of the block who stand against the man//
found out that it was a dirt clot that just broke in your hand//

weapon-soldering iron