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INFO - 54

54

de Cage / an -

VERSURI - 54

...Yo, Yo



Uh...huh, uh...huh, uh...huhhh



Kill that cat, Watch me kill that cat



If it's your girl im lookin' at, watch me kil that



cat...







[Cage]



I hunt cunts like these, with underground disease



And the yearly matin' spots, spawnin' million emcees



They used to go to shows drink, dance, get high



Then you click the Mic, the whole audience wanna rhyme



In ninety-two, I let the cage outta Alex, through



college radio



Demonstrate the fist, fuck the love ballads



Summon demons in my ad-libs, tongue trickling



Vomit good shit, go feed off dead Christians



Red light in the lincoln, from drinking drencrome



The corpse in my eye can explain the thinking



While I lay behind a wall of flesh, engulfed by the



homeless



If I escape, I might evaporate my whole state



Plus when cage ripped in half on the concrete



Screaming "that's my spirit running down the street"



The undead, writing the gun lead



Lypo-suck the fat bitch outta box with one hypo jab



Inject tiger-serum, I can't hear em'..."who?"



Alex with the fuckin' loaded 30-0-2



...cause







Chorus: Cage







This is for the whores, and the kicked over stores



And 54 dollars in my pocket on tour



This is for the kid that said "oh you dead"



And the 54 stitches that caught in his head



This is for the clowns I beef with no hands



And the two O-Z's down to 54 grams



With two to the face, I'm a basket face



With 54 seconds to outer space







[Cage]



I love a bull mastif, ground up, make him pound up



With green Jesus, get in, I'll drive you to seizures



Humanoid pause, before god, with cyborg dogs, after me



Killin' the rhymin' Sigmund Freuds



For the cause, your whole life's a waiting room for worms



Strangest occurs, you see Venus in furs



With toast out, facing earth, avenge my sixteen



Year old shell, talk to pistols like star scream



My whole story lost on a wall in black marker



Sixty-six more flicks for Clyde barker



With a little message for real research kids



Can you guess who the faggot DJ is?



My anti-commercial, style will curse you



Say fuck so much, my airplay's like curfew



To third shift farm chemists, the senates scarred



Start killing all the living like a serbian gods



You supporting communism buying major's, so dub



Watch me put two rocks in Kurt loaders head, for sub







Chorus: Cage







This is for the whores, and the kicked over stores



And 54 dollars in my pocket on tour



This is for the kid that said oh you dead



And the 54 stitches that caught in his head



This is for the clowns I beef wit' with no hands



And the two O-Z's down to 54 grams



With two to the face, I'm a basket face



With 54 seconds to outer space







[FADE OUT]

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