WHITE ZOMBIE lyrics - Soul Crusher

Shack Of Hate

Original and similar lyrics
Ze wheels o' fire. A doubleman defier. A motor and I. Regenerate I am. Your final pompeii. O 'etched in acid. Like a shack of hate. Love in the gut a downbeat ceasar. Mother's holly roller. The invasion-man. She a real. A real fuck invention. Like mississippi sway'n. Persasion. Atomic. Eat it. Atomic. Eat it. What is a man if not a he's a rebel rouser. Yea mechanized death. This is what you need. Las Vegas loser. A fuck'n crazy horse. Violent staisfaction switching the body. To a shack of hate. Automation. The skin buckles. This is what you need. A flesh surrender. Cruxifiction burns. Sex Mutilation a dead diamond. This game is mine. Atomic. Eat it. Atomic. Eat it.

Flipside

R.A. The Rugged Man "Soundbombing 1"
[R.A. the Rugged Man] Yo, yo, they asked me where the fuck I been for all this time I been fuckin' poor out of my fuckin' ass Eatin' fuckin' shit, fuckin' ugly bitches Cause everybody knows that pretty bitches ain't down to fuck nobody poor and shit But that shit don't even matter It's all about you faggot-ass motherfuckin' rappers Thinkin' y'all dope, drivin' Lexuses and shit like that Every Record Label Sucks Dick But yo, yo, but but but you be suckin' on your record label's dick Word up! This is just a little somethin' For motherfuckers to let them know I didn't fall off the earth You know what I'm sayin' At 5, 4, 3, 2 in the morning, losing my fuckin' mind about to murder people (Fuck them motherfuckers) Yo, yo, yo, yo, check it out, yo yo yo yo yo, like this They snakes in this rap field, fuck the fat deal Cap peeled, how does chokin' on the smoke from the gat feel The Rugged Man, record label suicide, move aside (RA calm down) Who the fuck you think you are I smack that bitch who works the front desk That strictly be there for high school credit But sucks dicks of all the rap stars Put me behind bars, cause Mister A amp;R Man's Bout to get fucked in his asshole and brother I'm not even gay Shay, shay, shay! The president of the company Don't care if I'm dead or if I'm bleeding I'm not succeeding, they turned my mindstate into evil Cause I want everyone dead on this fuckin' earth It really hurts, cause if music doesn't work I got nothing left to live for except dyin' in the poorhouse And bitches hate my fuckin' guts Those sluts loved me more than Patrick Swayze When I had my steady income I need a spot that I can sin from Suicide, never, but I got plots of taking out the other people And I ain't doin' jail time, that shit is wack Ain't no comin' back, once I lose control my shit is finished So don't get in this, you record label people gonna die And your family gonna die too, motherfuckers! Hahahaha, yo, yo Yo, that's just a verse, one verse You can't buy this shit, this shit is not for sale That's for the real rap fans But see, real nowadays is just a fuckin' gimmick anyway I'm keepin it real, I'm stayin' real, all this bullshit Yo, yo, how the fuck is you supposed to be real If you can't rap for real or can't flow for real You got your hip-hop styles on and you readin' them fuckin' rap magazines...

It Takes More

SILKK THE SHOCKER "Made Man"
(feat. Ghetto Commission) [Halloway and (Silkk the Shocker) Chorus] Everybody wants to be a mobb figga It takes more than soldier gear, to be a soldier, nigga Boy you ain't a gansta, unless you down to ride (Silkk the Shocker), Made Man, (GC), wise guys [x2] [Silkk the Shocker:] I'm in to win it, sky's the limit, nigga I ball till I fall I got a click full, its like fuck it, I'm lettin loose all If you real, you real, if you fake, you fake, ya'll niggas tryin to be hard But the problem is you be tryin too hard It's Silkk the Shocker and GC, meet me uptown Third ward, CP, apartment 3B We mobb niggas, we made niggas to real niggas, to rich niggas Bitch nigga, to the cave nigga Now ya'll really wanna play nigga If you going be a soldier, then be a soldier If you wanna be a thug, then be a thug Make the right call, can't be a killa and drug dealer, tasty, lights off You gotta be ready to go all out for the clout Four in a half, no doubt If it's a showdown you gotta be prepared to go down Real niggas make the world go round And what [Chorus x2] [Valerio:] It take more than them boys and where you from to call yourself a click Nigga we deep as the abyss Its all about that foolishness Just let me cross the niggas sayin they want a piece of the GC's When I release these, I engage to they fucking species So me me at the BATTLEFIELD motherfucker Still bout that blocka blocka, still bout that bucka bucka Still runnin with the hustlers, the gangstas, the killas The flossers, the ballers, the fucking made niggas [Spade:] Fucking round right up a mobsta, no second guessin Most notorious in my profession, murder, no question Ghetto Commission, oh we made niggas, respect the flame Thats burnin motherfuckers out the game, ain't nothing but a thang Mafia reign for '99, niggas sportin such thangs A pinky rings and the rolies with the diamond bling Its a money thang, syndicated crime at it's finest We got NOPD and the feds runnin behind us [Chorus x2] [Halloway:] These niggas practice what they preach, fucking beef with Silkk theShocker Mistah Mistah mistah Halloway, just call a fucking proverb Split you like you in trama (you want drama) From the waste up, to the face down, I'm a fuck around, and that's a motherfucking My glock goes bang bang, buck when I fuck We pullin rain, read them diamonds on my takn, nigga that means bank No Limit, no gimmick, we made motherfuckers, make you spin We bout to take over the world, if you test us, bitch you finished My images is dredlocks and glasses, straight up whippin niggas asses You fuck wione nigga in dis click, and you gettin dealt with by themasses We in court and outta court for putting niggas on life support We ain't about to face no time, bitch we mobsters, we got judges bought [Chorus x2] [Silkk the Shocker] Fuck Motherfucking wise guys nigga Made man nigga Organized crime, ya heard me

The Shit Is Real (DJ Premier Remix)

FAT JOE "Jealous One's Envy"
Yeah This is goin' out ... to all the live motherfuckers, knowhatumsayin' All the real niggaz, Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, California La Perla, Puerto Rico, whatever the fuck you're from, youknowhatumsayin' Yeah Verse One: This story takes place, back in the South Bronx Where at the age of fourteen I was ready to knockin' off punks (yeah!) And suckers were scared to death Every time I walked by I hit them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..) See, I just didn't give a fuck And if you had a seed skin, I let the bomba you was getting stuck (word!) That was the way it was One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cous See, something was fucked up back then No matter what the fuck I did, I never had no ends And my moms was on walfare Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never there So what the fuck was I had to do When sick and tired to bein' the bummiest nigga out the crew I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash! I see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fast Gimme your motherfucking loot, popi I'm goin' to get paid and can't a damn thing stop me See, I'm tired of this porshit And who the cops Well they can suck my motherfuckin' dick! Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass That's why I came glad when I heard somebody swooped that ass (*gunshot*) Just to let ya know how I feel, word'em up The fuckin' shit is real Chorus: (*background cuts Down on the real *) Aiyyo its real Aiyyo the shit is real The fuckin shit is real Aiyyo its real Verse Two: Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene I'm makin' mad dupe, gettin' paid off the dope fiends (word) *Deep in shit* the checkin order, and my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughter See everybody knew in town that Joe and Tone had shit locked down And a nigga wouldn't test me It seems like every other day the fucking cops arrest me (yea!) But the shit would never stick I make one phone call and he'll be out by quick Cause uncle Tan had my back And now niggaz gettin' jealous cause they know I'm livin' fat Talkin shit around the way and over block But never in my face cause they knew I'd clap the glock And my crew is mad deep I'm punchin crazy puerto rican, so why yo don't sleep (word!) And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal, check it out The fucking shit is real Chorus Verse Three: Let me let ya know why I made this song (why!) Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond I'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggaz Sayin' that they're catchin' bodies when they never pulled a trigga I know ya style, I've seen it before You wearin' army suit, now you think you're hardcore Drinkin on your 40's, smokin on your blunts Then afford a chainsaw, yo there ho fronts ,yeah You fakin' the funk, kid And you'd be *kidnapped* the ass if you ever did a fucking bid It's time to separate the real from the phony The name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know me I come from crypt with that ruff shit Nowadays I can't believe the *bull/boo* rappers come up with And all y'all bitch ass niggaz know the deal, check it out The fuckin shit is real Chorus Outro: Word up! I wanna say peace to my peeps, the Beatnuts Messengers Of Funk, strictly Roots My man Four Flex, Zulu Nation Jazzy J in the house Diamond D, the whole Diggin' In The Crates crew And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana Aiyo, I'm out, word is bond The shit is real (*Premier cuts Fat Joe's in town *)

Do You - Dmx

Funkmaster Flex "The Mix Tape, Vol. 4: 60 Minutes of Funk"
[Intro] That T would help though Here we go again Yeah, check it out, y'all Check it out, check it out Check it out y'all, check it out y'all Straight Y.O. mother fuckers Now days cats and middleman, little man, ain't controlling shit Talk about holding bricks, but ain't holding dick Niggas talk real slick, but that's about it Soon as I see 'em headed my way, I cut them off quick Must you beat me in my head everytime I come through? It's shit like, everybody tells me I sound just like you But you not me, got me? And you can live without me If I wasn't DMX, you wouldn't give a fuck about me Ain't about Dog I wanna be just like you How about you wanting to be just like you? You can do what I do, just in your own way Shit, I get niggas that ride big every fuckin' day (I-ight?) If you got talent, talent is yours, it can't be mine And it take you where it's gon' take you, it'll be fine Let me hit 'em with the rewind Do you and I'll do me To me you'll see how real you'll be 1 - Do you - Cuz what it boils down to it's true Do you - Cuz you are held accountable fo ryou Do you - Is that really what you want me to see Do you - Cuz I'mma do me, truley Do you - Cuz what it boils down to, it's true Do you - Cuz you are held accountable for you Do you - Is that really what you want me to see Do you - Cuz I'mma do me, truley Hey yo dog, I got lyrics Hey yo dog, I got beats (Word) Damn, is this the type of shit I gots to put up with in the streets? Used to be able to walk, not have to talk to nobody Everywhere I go it's like I bring the whole party It ain't about tryin' to follow or tryin' to be like But if we all see it through the eyes of the Lord, we see a light (c'mon) Just let me get a hold of the mic, I'll teach you a little something Now the good things that go wrong because of a little frontin' Express yourselves, be who you are, umm umm, you're a shining star You don't even know what you got inside How the fuck you gon' find out, you keep wanting to ride Hey yo, I ain't gon' let it slide no more You're best to go for what you know Can't do you, then what you flow for You ain't gon' get there tryin' to be me, dog Look through your eyes, see what you see Repeat 1 Like fuck it, you wanna be me? Here's what you do Grow up neglected by both parents and still pull through You gots to come up fucked up, get treated like shit Then have your mother's new boyfriend smack you like a bitch Turn into a killer, don't carry shottie Cuz the way it's goin' down right now, you gon' kill somebody Get a dog, walk the streets, learn what you need to learn Better have a cause but because you'll get burned You got 15 years without ever coming out And beat your fist at the world and what they talkin' about Then get locked up every two years For two years keep it real, hold back all tears, face your fears Become a man before your time, rap but live out your rhymes Let 'em know what's on your mind, then you'll get your shine In time, everything you hear will come true But you won't be doin' me, you'll be doin' you Repeat 1 until fade

All In The Family

LIMP BIZKIT
Fred: Say what, say what? Say what, say what? Say what, say what? My dick is bigger than yours...My band is bigger than yours. Fred: Too bad I got your beans in my bag (Aha). You stuck up sucker, KoRny mother fucker (oooo). Taking over flows, it's the limp, pimp, Need a (dick) bizkit to save this group from Jon Davis. I'm gonna drop a little East Side skill (ooo), So you best step back, 'cause I'ma kill, I'ma kill. So what you thinking Mr. Raggedy Man, Doing all you can to look like Raggedy Anne. Jonathan: Check you out punk, yes I know you feel it, You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video (say what, say what), You little faggot ho. Please give me some shit to work with, 'Cause right now I'm all it kid, Suck my dick kid, Like your daddy did. Fred: Who the fuck you think you talkin' to? I'm known for eating whiney little chumps like you (whatever). All up in my face with that 'Are you ready?!' The halitosis, is all you're rockin' steady. You little fairy, smelling on your flowers, nappy hairy chest, look it's Austin Powers! (Ah yeah, baby). I hear you tokin' on them fag pipes clod, but you said it best, 'There's no place to hide.' Jonathan: What the fuck you saying? You're a pimp whatever. Limp dick, Fred Durst needs to rehearse, Needs to reverse, what he's sayin'. (Say what, say what). Wannabe Funkdoobie's what you're playin', Rippin' at my bag, counterfeit, fakin'. Plus your bills I'm payin'. You can't eat that shit every day Fred, Lay off the bacon. Fred: Say what, say what, you better your fuckin' mouth Jon. Jon: So you hate me! Fred: And I hate you! Jon: You know what, you know what, it's all in the family. I hate you! Fred: You hate me! Jon: You know what, it's all in the family. Jon: Look at you fool, I'm gonna fuck you up twice, Throwing rhymes at me like, oh shit alright! Vanilla Ice! You better run, run while you can, Can never fuck me up, Bitz Climpkit. At least I got a phat original band. Fred: Who's hot? Who's not? (You). You best step back, KoRn on the cob (okay), You need a new job (ha). Tryin' to take 'em mic skills back to the dentist And buy yourself a new drill (fuck you). You pumpkin pie, I'll jack off in your eye, Climbing shoots and ladders, while your ego shatters. But you just can't get away (get a gay?), Because it's Doomsday kid, it's Doomsday. Jon: So I hate you! Fred: And you hate me! Jon: You know what, you know what, it's all in the family. I hate you! Fred: And you hate me! Jon: You know what, you know what, it's all in the family. Fred: You call yourself a singer (yep), You're more like Jerry Springer (oh, cool). Your favorite band is Winger (Winger) And all you eat is zingers (zingers?). You're like a fruity pebble, Your favorite flag is rebel (yee haa!). It's just too bad that you're a fag and on a lower level. Jonathan: So you're from Jacksonville, kicking it like Buffalo Bill. Getting butt-fucked by your uncle Chuck, While your sister's on her knees waiting for your Fuckin' nut (oh yeah). Fred: Wait, where'd you get that little dance? (Over here). Like them idiots in Waco, you're burning up in Bako (huh). Where your father had your mother, your mother had your brother (nah uh). It's just too bad your father's mad and your mother's now your lover. Jonathan: Come on hillbilly, can your horse do a fuckin' wheelie? You love it down south and, boy, you sure do got a purty mouth. Jonathan: I hate you! Fred: And you hate me! Jonathan: You know what, you know what, it's all in the family. And I hate you! Fred: And you hate me! Jonathan: You know what, you know what, it's all in the family. Jonathan: And I love you! Fred: And I want you! Jonathan: And I'll suck you! Fred: And I'll fuck you! Jonathan: And I'll buck fuck you! Fred: And I'll eat you! Jonathan: And I'll lick your little tainty prick, mother fucker. Fred: Say what? Say...what?

Was it funny? Share it with friends!