Dead Hours

Basking in this afterglow of power

Feelin like I'm chosen

In the strike of the dead hours

It's the fear that leaves you frozen

In the corner of your room

A shadow stands and softly whispers

Every thought that comes to mind is of demise

Ya slowly slippin

In that murder-murder redrum

Backwards speaking serpent tongues

A detriment I have become throughout the land you'll hear it sung

Bring the worship to my feet

I rock the cradle of the beast

Never known who I am

It is the master of mystique

Feel the creep of the bugs as they crawl under skin

I cast these evil thoughts into your mind

Now watch my rain begin

Hallucinations mass devastation

I'll soon be tasting

Power like no other so corrupted

By the force of faithless

Rebel yell give’em hell

Fuck the opposition

I will not eat what I am feed

There’s poison in the vision

Change the source and break the will

Recode this mind to see what’s real

Never scared of the feel I chase it for a new thrill

Deadly touch gore lust I want to feel the rush

Crushing all my enemies inside my hand they turn to dust

Incinerate these abomination no room for weak

Just Close your eyes and sense the line

There’s nowhere for ya to retreat

Pray to this trinity of 3

These unholy venomous ways

Will getcha caught up in the dark so be careful of what you say

Crossing boundary’s of the norm

I meditate within the storm

The thunder glows upon my horns

Within my eyes, you see the scorn

I must admit that I'm insane

Deep in my mind, I've seen the proof

Upon inspection of my brain, it shows the violence I produce

It's evident that everyone is out to get me even birds are staring down they send malevolence within their evil chirps

But still, i seem to keep it calm

Because in life there is a purpose

Suicide is not the answer

Let the trio guide you further

Light your blunt put down the gun

The trinity will spit its sermon

We don't need no interruptions

Cut that noose and stop your squirming

Motherfucker

You got some tats and now you think that you're a god

Don't claim to be holdin Glocks

In the south when you're really not

You're a mockery just a flop

Spittin garbage within your copies of Memphis shit and it's not even relevant

We can't understand you

Our founding fathers are rolling within their graves

All these phonies and imitations

Are ruining what was sacred

We rap just to get away

Only facts but these fuckin fakes had a different outlook on things

I guess weakness is cool today

This world is gone

I can't believe it

Our music has been infected by ignorance and depression

Ignoring the hidden message

That people are supposed to hear

Instead of poppin all that Xanax

Busta boy just slit yo wrists and kill yo damn self

I'll let the demons just decide on what to do with all that's rotten

And sickened you cannot change armageddon

What was it worth in the end?

I hope you learned a good lesson

Now bow your head to the three

And feel the weight of the devil