Body Funk lyrics

by

Bizarre


And now the moment you've all been waiting for

[Hook: Ian]
Don’t ask me why the body’s hacked up in the trunk
(You knooow)
Psycho killer, I am crazy
Don’t ask me why the body’s hacked up in the trunk
(You knooow)
You could be the next one maybe

[Verse 1: Damien]
I black out when I put a punk in a trunk
That’s how I f*cked up and got blood on my bumps
Keep him tied up, this chump about to catch it
Take a hatchet to his stomach, rip his guts out, then I strech it
Across the alleyway I love death in every way
And when they start to decay, I still leave em tied and gay
Yo, my mind is insane, check your name
Claim I ain’t poppin thangs with a shirt full of blood stains
Your blood drains off my bumper to the ground
Who’d a thought I’d hit ya point blank with the cannon round
Make sure your body’s never found is my objective
Play it like a pimp, when I talk to detectives
My perspective has stayed with duct tape
It makes it easier for the c*nt to get raped
Don’t make the mistake of lettin the b*tch loose
Keep her hog tied with ya daddy’s noose

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Ian]
Aye yo, black duffel bags, AK’s, and grenades
I be killing everybody, but you know it ain’t a thing
I’ll be jackin off in your neices room in the closet
Looking at me crazy, but you know you bout to vomit
Caught your ass slippin, now you’re in my kitchen
Cooked up in a pot, sh*t so vivid
Don’t ask me why the body’s hacked up in the trunk
Rollin through your hood, you can smell the body funk
I be chopppin up the people saying that I’m ‘evil'
And drop the body parts at a church or a steeple
You better f*ckin run, you better f*ckin run
Gonna run up in your crib, and kill everyone
And if you did me wrong, I’m a kill you slowly
Fingers, toes, nails, blow me
Hackin up the body when I’m playin with the shotty
It excites me when your corpse starts rotting

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Mars]
Put your body in the trunk, got f*cked, and I’m dumpin
Fifteen inch in the back, your head slumpin
Man, it’s nothin to murder a b*tch
Chop the body up in a bag, she ain’t sh*t
Im tired of sleepin the back on the track for bad sex
Mad insane, grippin a 4 or black rags
This is dark style with dark half, we got a mess
And never hesitate to put a slug in yo ass
I got a grip for cash for all the body’s that I’m stackin
Yo b*tch up on the block I’m just mackin'
She ain’t got my scrill the ho’s done
Creep outta cloud, let’s smoke, I’m on one
On three, sh*t we finna kick in the door
Out the morgue mothaf*cka and I’m killin that ho
Yeah I put her body with the rest of em
Turning b*tches out and you know I got the best of em

[Hook]

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