| Murdah, murdah, murdah, the mothahfuckah murdah |
| Murdah, murdah, the mothahfuckah murdah |
| Murdah, murdah, the mothahfuckah murdah |
| The mothahfuckah murdarah |
| Yes! It’s your wake up call, so bust a glock to get to heaven |
| You never came up? They run you 1−8-7 |
| You choke when I slash your throat, I take it as a joke |
| I laugh, cause after that you might get smoked |
| Then I put cha on a table, and I’ll chop you up to pieces |
| I do it in a hustle, make you feel like a puzzle |
| And nobody can put you back together again |
| Next it’ll be your family, then I’ll get your friends |
| It’s a minute before midnight, and I’m on the prowl |
| Have no room for sympathy cause my life is foul |
| I lost it a long time ago, I lose control |
| On a dumb mothahfuckah taking a late night stroll |
| You see? The night belongs to a prowler |
| And somebody’s coming to face him in an hour |
| Coming straight at cha |
| Your head I’m gonna fracture |
| I take you on an ill trip, you dying when I catch cha |
| Don’t give a fuck about life and its meaning |
| Trying to cut a deal to survive? Keep dreaming! |
| I’m the merciless Mexakin, and you cannot see well |
| When I take your fucking eyes out with a hot spoon |
| Rub til you scar, skin you alive |
| Then throw your fucking ass in a pool of peroxide |
| Or, shank you in the heart with a gold-bladed dagger |
| Then knock your fucking head off with a sledge hammer |
| Manitico, satnico, malvado multiplero |
| Pero vas a ver porque me dicen el «talo» perro |
| A veces pierdo la mente, de repente, me regresa |
| Empieza, cuando a mi se-se me sella un tercer fuerza |
| Agarro un martillo, te doy un chingadazo en la cabeza |
| Ya lo dija, nunca te hago una promesa |
| Te dejo tirado en un charco de sangre |
| Tengo hambre, llega la hora de chingar tu madre |
| Another tale from my murdahrous point of view |
| Here’s the plot |
| No matter what, victims get shot |
| No barkings to let them say, «Let's make a deal!» |
| What I wanna hear is a punk mothahfuckah squeal |
| Stick a shank in your chest and turn it |
| The reason why you dying, punk bitch, is cause you earned it |
| You were at the wrong place at the wrong time |
| Now I find another property of flight that I claim as mine |
| The more you scream the more I fiend to be a surgeon |
| I can feel the urging, the merging! |
| More wicked than Manson, Bundy, Ramirez |
| Dahmer, I show these mothahfuckahs what fear is |
| More scarier than Halloween, so fuck Michael Myers! |
| Trick or treat my technique? Set your house on fire |
| Or cut your fucking tongue out, and watch it twist and jump |
| Put some battery acid in your water |
| And watch you slurp it |
| (Music fades away) |
| (Intellect knocking on door) |
| Intellect: |
| Yo! Sin! Wake your fucking ass up! We gotta go to the studio! |
| God Damn, Homes! That shit was crazy! |