fingers Mutate Insectile Mutate I cum malignant, cold death-gasm Ia! Ia! Zi, azakka diablos! I pulse and twitch; I release and spasm I heard Satan on the AM radio
Flower girls play lover Grave games in the courtyard I heard her Screaming like a radio Mary Lou left marks on you She just screams at the walls The kite
Decay, your words acidic taste I'm unfolding little scraps of paper But I'll pluck you like a dead bug from my feet No more voices on the radio No
a treat you like a hoe (Gangsta Boo) Since you niggaz talkin' shit About the dirty dirty six Lemme see if you can bump out And be featured on a hit Radio
body I am so naughty because I am moderately into photography Following through the autopsy But man, f**k it, (enough of them bustas so just) pour some acid
're playin a game.. it's all plain.." [puba] Uhh Here go the style to make the young girls smile They go wild when grand puba's on they radio dial
me in its wake The lava kept on flowing Telling all what's new To listen was a mistake An information river The radio puked on me How much can one man
no satisfaction 'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try I can't get no, I can't get no When I'm drivin' in my car, and the man come on the radio
the ride, yeah Sweet'n the ride, Black Sunshine Sweet'n the ride, yeah Cry a river 'Cosmic' moon in Scorpio Feel her body breathe, acid radio Tell me
off nice, y'nahmean? Word up, check it I shot ya I'm splittin' brothers open like a doctor Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth gotcha I drop ya down in boilin' acid
plan Of a time span of seconds to an immortal Transport immortals in portals toward an Egyptian land To then erect complex architect structures and pyramids Melted parted rock with acidic
Wanna grind out, find out where my hood is Let's just say that this is how we put it down Y'all niggas cool out and lounge Fuck around, radios, down
Wake up to the nagging of the clock radio and the sick world news starts to pour and flow. Got yer murders, rapes and stabbings, and yer child abuse,
Now rockin' with the best So I advise all you brothas to get on down I said get on down, get yo ass on down I don't give a god damn about radio play '
BITCH im my own idol & if you cant face it my nigga you can ass it. My Acces a Ride Accesroies Bring out my accets. Nigga this sound on acid, tablet
hear that it's gonna be repossessed Well I thought you had it made But you ain't even paid For the things that you've bought Since the acid test I hear
radio sneeze into the evening And all the bat-squeak singers selling fake hope to the sleeping I've seen the cover up of cold hard facts And they're burning acid
and chemistry and lung disease Make mincemeat of your passion on days like these And everything you say is like sugar The sweeter it gets you know I lick it away CHORUS Radio