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***, pillaged, and gutted
I could only imagine the fear in your mind
As my hands grab your throat from behind
No doubt
For this ***
I'll use the pressure point choke out
Because when it comes to ***
It's a good chance your gonna see my glock, before you see my ***
Dark room awakening, strapped to the table
The lights illuminate my instruments
My pickaxe, snubnose, the sawnoff, the meatcleaver, the chainsaw
You see what the *** im workin' with?
This isn't a dream ***, to me, your nothing but a hole
So when i look you in the eyes, the only words I say is
I'm in full control
Horror when you see my face
You've seen the blotters in the newspapers, you know I'm famous
So *** I'm gonna start this *** with a pickaxe to your ***
Blood pours; fountains from this ***
I look at my prick, and I know I'm craving more
I grasp my cleaver, my tool of dismemberment
hacking at your limbs, slipping in the blood on my floor
Jamming your severed arm into your rancid vaginal pore
I spew at the sight of the slashed and gaped ***
Hyper-extented vaginal cavity fuels my urge to disembowel.
Removal of your mangled innards, forceful extraction from your busted ***.
Now that I'm done with this brutalized ***,
As I walk away, I spark up a freshly rolled blunt.
I left her there to die slow,
This is how I show zero respect for this busted *** hoe