Dratchface - Muerte lyrics

(Intro) La muerte es la única manera de escapar de la maldición que es la vida Mi creación fue el error de Dios [Verse 1: Dratchface] Dratch is always eating rappers up, so call him No Face He think his derelict flow is good enough to showcase His lyrics are harder to make out than MBV's is I'm like aged brie, other rappers like some Cheez Whiz Jesus, Imma show you where the steez is Flow so bitter cold that when I spit, the mic freezes I don't believe this, Dratchface is still the freshest On that Steve Albini sh**, big and black like Precious Nervous MC's on the mic is mad fidgety They open up their mouths and come out with jack diddley Riddle me this, who got the smoothest lines in show biz? Lyrics like Biggie and beats like Flying Lotus? You know it's gotta be the Dratch odyssey You can always see me on a bike like Erik Estrada be Tearing a**es up like it's sodomy There's a tragic comedy in hearing MC's express dismay audibly Muerte [Verse 2: Dratchface] I split dicks when I stick em with blades, I give em AIDS This sh** is insane, could only be spitted by a sick brain Dratch's style alien, straight Mephistophelean Old school, brushin the dust off like paleontologists So don't gimme no slick politics All of this talk about acknowledgements is preposterous You can't follow this, I'm esoteric like Kabbalah is Hotter than the kind of place where a koala lives You're dignified as a spring breaker with her b**bs out My gat'll turn your bellybu*ton into an umlaut Cuz you don't wanna challenge my crew to a shootout Dratchface, the gun toting Jew with a rude mouth Who doubts me? Your apprehension won't be rewarded And even if it should be, lord knows I can't afford it I'm the most sordid, important dork who ever formed id The poor kid sure did dry up her meat-eating orchid Muerte [Verse 3: Dratchface] Dratch is back, and always scheming on fat chances Abstract, and onstage screaming like Black Francis Every young lady who hears this track dances And gets low like sagged pants is Other MC's lines are rancid Dratchface's style is like axiomatic semantics Self-evident meaning in the language and the metaphors Linguistic prowess emanates from my sweatin pores Motherf**er, you don't know who you're talking to This co*ky dude can never not be rude, but god, he's cute A groggy youth who's been known to sleep ‘till prolly noon With lyrics so sharp they could shave a body smooth A bawdy Jew hocking mixtapes outside the EMP Even though my thin skin is pinker than a peony And everyone I give it to wants me to leave em be So I dunno what a label or a girl could even see in me Muerte [Verse 4: Dratchface] Y'all talk a lot of sh**, but you can't back it up (back it up) Cuz your tracks s** and you lack guts Or you're gonna when I bust a rhyme and you crack up So you better sack up ‘fore I blast ya With a black gat with a sawed-off barrel Yo, look at Dratch, he's gone all feral Y'all be careful, allow me to give you an earful And when I get through, you won't look so cheerful Simple b**hes amble twixt the candlesticks Basic like the whole milk one imbibes with delicious corned beef sandwiches Y'all motherf**ers can't handle this, I got numerous tactical advantages The flow I brandish is sharp enough to at least put y'all in bandages And I ain't gonna hand this sh** off to another MC, I can manage it solo But you don't know how I'm gonna put a schlomo in a casket with his pants in a twist Hands in a fist and his fans in a tizzy, with a flow that's dizzy for a cancerous cyst On the back of the whole rap game, which just I can't stay away from, I got too many rants to resist Muerte