| I’m married to this game, till death do us part |
| For richer or for poor, Imma give it all my heart |
| And I take this fucking mic as my lawful wedded wife |
| And Imma rock it every night just to keep my game tight |
| Wildest barbarians, lots of hysteria |
| Black pitbull terriers, venomous area |
| Sniper is strikin' with Infamous wrath |
| Cracking yo fuckin' head in half |
| Let’s take a bloody bath in my Michael Myers mask |
| Dump them like some gladiators or thee annihilators |
| Also thee eradicators, the Loony Bin escaped |
| I’m hittin' 'em with the clothes lines |
| Smashin' the fucking vertabrae |
| Wolfpack predator, don’t discrimanate on prey |
| Every sunday Infamous transform to Ted Bundy |
| .44 hollow in yo tummy, ain’t working on Monday |
| Whats up with the Scarecrow? You know till the world blow |
| But no disrespect but I’ll swear you like you build it hoe |
| Ain’t hatin' on you bro cause you wear a lot of jewelry |
| But my only bling is that fuckin' chrome artillery |
| Nigga are you feeling me? Need to take this serious |
| Infamous fucking you punkass-niggas up like I’m furious |
| I’m married to this game, till death do us part |
| For richer or for poor, Imma give it all my heart |
| And I take this fucking mic as my lawful wedded wife |
| And Imma rock it every night just to keep my game tight |
| Trick you know that I know you ain’t got no fuckin' nuts |
| Bitch I know that you know I’ll fill you fuckin' full of slugs |
| Pistol pop, body flop, then you drop in the mud |
| Knock off ya block from the hot shots from this thug |
| Revolver silver, make you shiver with this pain I deliver |
| Niggas injured from revenger bullets, enter every center |
| Mentally scarred, very hard, bitch I will pull your card |
| Melt you slobs like some lard when this Glock boils your heart |
| Slop chop, blown apart, mafia G, vice squad |
| Ram rod pimp stick, red hot cum shot |
| Slap hard, smack, whack, rock apart |
| Hungry moany stomach growling cuz I ain’t had shit but slop |
| Want yo fuckin pieces hoe, want my money right here hoe |
| You’ll never be Scarecrow, slap some sense in ya hoe |
| I’m married to this game, till death do us part |
| For richer or for poor, Imma give it all my heart |
| And I take this fucking mic as my lawful wedded wife |
| And Imma rock it every night just to keep my game tight |
Информация о песне На данной странице вы можете ознакомиться с текстом песни Til Death , исполнителя - Lord Infamous. Песня из альбома Helloween, в жанре Рэп и хип-хоп