Инструменти
Ensembles
Genres
Композитори
Извођачи

Текст песне : Esham. Boomin' Words From Hell. Cross My Heart.

Son of a bitch, Jason wants to slit his wrists

But I'll tell you like this, should'nt take the risk
Knowin the consequences well



The suicidal suckers end up in hell
Some rather be dead then living in sin

'cause the planet is fucked up and misled

By fools like you

Runnin round tellin mother fuckers what they can and cant do

Butterflys in my stomach

Make me wanna vomit 'cause I know doomsday is coming
Jasons facin life or death, it's do or die


And as he take a deep breath he wonders who will cry
The only one who really cares is you and I


But your the only one who really knew why

Lifes a bitch from beginning to end and then you die

Living the life of sin and why


I can see it in your eyes I'm not suprised
As you cross your heart and hope to die



Living your life on the edge of panic


But still you manic
'cause you was born a schizophrenic

Never knew life was a bitch, but it is so hard

I'm living low in the graveyard

Take a trip to another side another place

Lying in a casket wit a dead mans face
Who gives a fuck about you, nobody but you


But I didn't have to tell you take 'cause thats something you already knew


Just like a razor to the wrist I'm a cut you quick

Last dying words is I'm a son of a bitch


Son of a gun and Ive just begun to bleed
As I scream Jesus christ and fall to my knees

And as everyone cries they wonder why
I cross my heart and hope to die




My rhyme is a nine to the forehead

And once you push play you'll pull the trigga and now your dead

A suicidal homicidal homicidal suicidal recital

Is what I recite when I'm on the mic

At midnight I'll smother you like crib death

And find my record spinning

You'll never no I was grinnin when I did that
This is the U-N-H-O-L-Y


Deadly, like pesticide
So just step aside


Once I knew a little girl was playin my tape on Sunday


They found her in some headphones dead on Monday
Hanging from a chandelier the only thing to fear is fear

When you get them butterflies you know the Unholy is near

Some disappear and never be found
Some are smothered by the rhythm and then drown



And when I blow your mind your wont know why
You'll soon cross your heart and hope to die