Cage - 54 lyrics

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Cage - 54 lyrics

...Yo, Yo Uh... huh, uh... huh, uh... huhhh k** that cat, Watch me k** that cat If it's your girl I'm lookin' at, watch me kil that Cat... I hunt c*nts 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, f** the love ballads Summon demons in my ad-libs, tongue trickling Vomit good sh**, 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-s** the fat b**h outta box with one hypo jab Inject tiger-serum, I can't hear em'... "who?" Alex with the f**in' loaded 30-0-2 ...cause [Chorus:] This is for the who*es, 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 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 k**in' 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 f*ggot DJ is? My anti-commercial, style will curse you Say f** so much, my airplay's like curfew To third shift farm chemists, the senates scarred Start k**ing 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:] This is for the who*es, 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' 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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