The wicketshit will never die
Esham Lyrics
The wicketshit will never die Lyrics
The wicketshit will never die by Esham
Here comes the voodoo what'cha gone do when my crew
Back from the dead once more again
f**kin' up the flow again, f**k it here we go again
Oh, not me again, last time I wrecked sh*t
Burned down the church comin' through like the exorcist
Next to this, you get put on my sh*t list
Throw lifers get dissed you can't f**k with this
Wicked wild, wicked style, I don't give a f**k I'll get buck wild
I'm psycho just like Michael
And I might go a little something like this, suicidalist
Dangerous minds bust when I bust
Digging up dust now I must, in God you trust
If I add just then I add just this
No justice, no peace, bloody body police
Belly of da pig got me fiendin' for a cracker
Jack be nimble make your body tremble
Cardiac arrest for the one in the chest
Then I K-I-double L T-H-E-F-E-T-U-S
Yes, I'm down with N-A-T-A-S, I suggest
You try but don't cry, 'cause the wicked sh*t'll never die
Once again I ressurected niggaz unexpected
A closed casket when I leaped out and blasted a basket
Case brother of insanity I'm not alone
Havin' fatal thoughts of puttin' a chrome to my dome
Now what kinda wicked sh*t? This some ol' wicked sh*t
Not so many niggaz all over devil diggin' sh*t
Stay up off my dick, my style's sick, but I'm so sick of this
Helter skelter bite my sh*t, it's so ridiculous
I know my sh*t's phatter than Luther Vandross
Psychic connection wanna hit me with the holy ghost
Overdose, diagnose, niggaz in a comotose
Once I buck, buck ya, nigga motherf**k ya
Voodoo wicked child born a bastard
Visions of bloody bodies bein' blasted
Thinkin' of excuses, voices in my head mental abuses
Loses my mind, thought the flatline refuses
To answer, you can fess sh*t as you question
Me and myself verses Smith and Wesson
I'm that nigga with the wicked ass flow
b**ch you better act like you know
'Cause the wicked sh*t will never die
The wicked sh*t will never 187
Never go to heaven and f**k that reverend
All day whenever and
Feel like givin' up, mind starts blowin' up
Some old wicked sh*t, once again I'm throwin' up
A fit, I'm never gonna get into heaven
That's why I bought me a three 57
f**k a reverend, and God I can't trust is true
So when I go to hell, better me and not you
I'ma walk the bloody trail and you can follow if you want
If you truly understand but my man I think you don't
I'm a suicidal revital, my title's homicidal
So many niggaz will die when I write my recital
They don't understand that I gotta plan for the klan
The area nation, white caucasian
I'm sick of all the bullsh*t I'd rather be dead
But first I better put a bullet in your head instead
They said that everything I said was a lie
But if you go and kill the fetus you cry
But the wicked sh*t will never die
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