What Can The Matter Be

Holocaust

    Continúa después del anuncio

    The Holocaust, The Holocaust, The Holocaust
    The Holocaust...

    [Holocaust]
    A bat lives by hearing, the mother eats the moths and hats
    He captures in full flight, I pull a knife or a gun, you're watching a bullfight
    Can I strike in hooded knight, printed on the moon in gun heist
    My gun is a revolver type, there is no other man as hype
    As The Holocaust, despite hound, an Italian maidswoman
    Dropped a pale to the ground, when she saw a bloody mess
    As she heard a sharp sound, when the weight found
    Then I escape the town, cyclone M.C.
    Many bones are thrown for me, alot to eat
    You rock to sleep, from the great caves I stalk in Greece
    Piece by piece, God soldier alone, shown the feast
    Going to sleep, heads flow the street, not by themselves
    Some men retreat, love and distortion, bloody misfortune
    Calmly swept off their feet
    A phenomenon to natural science seek alone discrete
    Known unweak, and grown physique
    A phantom of a person living or dead, in a place
    Where his body is known to be, from Los Angeles
    To Manhattan, and back again

    Continúa después del anuncio

    [Chorus 2X: Holocaust]
    What can the matter be? What can the matter be?
    I came from the Wu-Tang Academy, ain't no man mad at me

    [Holocaust]
    The night scroll wind keeper and his end, were most
    You try to return and find both of which were ghosts
    Headless heathen and heroic heroes, on the shoulder of quote
    The Undertaker is skillful, the makers of widows, forsaker of the hills
    Behold, nature's criminal, creator of riddles, to break off windows
    Got a weaker armadillo, your rhyme is next to zero
    I bust your fucking head with a bat, in a table like Robert De Niro
    My throw game is for the fire walls, the rap population plummet
    American flag, a gun love it, a bird is warm blooded
    And carrying for this gift from heaven, the dark overlord was
    I wield fire sitting on a pillar thrown, the fucking warlock
    Edgar Allen Poe died in Baltimore, was found lying outside a boating place
    Probably on October 3rd, my gunshot through your shoulder hurt
    Your progress seems very slow, your accomplishes may not show
    Journey into an untouchable world, of darkness, bro
    I paralyze my pray, and take 'em to an underground shaft
    He who laughs best, laughs last, the smoke rises from the hours
    After a timid atomic blast, from Los Angeles
    To Manhattan, and back again

    [Chorus 4X]

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión

    Canciones relacionadas