Foreign Beggars - Coded Rhythm Talk lyrics

[Verse 1: Farma G] I walk with an army of zombies, dancing and chanting Bloodfests and orgies, skeletons are marching With ogres and martians Evil cantations Paegans and witches, the flight of a raven Songs from the gravestones, fire from the rooftops Brimstone and lightning, curse of a cyclops My rage in a red cloud, vortex of cyclones Storms in a teacup, fight til my eyes closed Is this my coffin or a lifeboat to Cairo? Ships on the dead sea, offspring of pirates Offerings for lost gods buried in the silence The thirteenth ghost from the halls of the asylum Giants of seance, rain, sun or hailstones Stopped in my tracks, handcuffed to a rail road Waiting for a slow train due before morning Welcome to the end of the world that we're born in [Verse 2: Chester P] I'm going to try and kick it with that rhyming sh** that's scientific But even my lightest lyrics seem like hieroglyphics to mindless critics f** your spineless gimmicks, wisely set, we come precise as physics My wisdom on the track like some semen on your nicest biscuits Just a violent misfit trying to vocalise my life's statistics Cos hazard be decisively while my peeps release the tightest mixes But why should indict tendecies [?] as Hitler's Trying to fix this wine because the light's ballistics Symbiotic structure of flows, rhymes and drum patterns Shattering soundscapes raise your wordplay with shaking atoms Staggering through time and space like beligerent individuals Foreign Beggars symphatized it nice but not hospitable Visual conceptualisation resulted in coded rhythm talk Diminishing listenings [?] written in chalk Making a stalk are the weaker seeds of the first signs My third eye sheds a tear through fear of the burning light [Bridge] Cold-hearted Insane And maybe sane at the same time So evil We're all gunna be slaughtered [Verse 3: Metropolis] I'm the son of a demon Conceived with no semen The hell-raiser Threw in a razor and can't feel it I see through an eye-patch I'm just about breathing The cobwebs are bleeding Revealing my feelings Half brother of Damien Drinking uranium I'll snatch up the atmosphere and put out the sunlight What could be better than spoiling your fun so Feast on a new-born and fetish for tongue is How I became to be known as the one I'm a flesh crawling hybrid Crossed with a dinosaur T-Rex power drill banging on your front door Skin scorched bad like the singing detective Lord of all darkness, the true Loch Ness FB's on deception like a lethal injection Protection from my crucifix ends in rejection Prepare for the end of this world cos we're ballin' [Verse 4: Orifice Vulgatron] I'm dryly spiteful It's higher it's highly insightful Orifice on the offend, rippin it like a Tyson [?] Despite all that my nine to five what is mine and rightful Strive for the life that is nice because finding rhymes is highly delightful Lies are viral, especially when dispersed by meisers on vinyl I'm violently inclined like the plight of a tyrant's rival Can't to decide whether to confide in a knife or bible Providing a fight in spite is just a coward's cry for survival Attention defecit reflection of edgy restlessness Never mention perfection yes I dwell in the densest crevices My head is where the best of them perish, the battle's effortless Feeding off the fact that you're stressing 'bout your defencelessness Every single person's a victim for different reasons Defeating yourself is just your instincts committing treason Spitting every season come ice, fire or water Enter this next level of malevolence and slaughter [Outro] Prepare for the end of this world cos we ballin' x 8