Wolf Creek Pt. II - Schizo

Let’s not get it twisted

I’m mental and I’m wicked

I never need assistance turning bodies into liquids

Hands around your throat squeeze your neck air restricted

The key to bagging bodies in the game is my consistence

I’m a fuckin killa with the 9 inside your face

Burnin flesh for the fun Im keeping murder in my veins

Fuckin with my demons but they tell me that the devil lies

Soul reside im deep inside of all hell fire

Jig with the saw im hound without a muzzle

You a dog on a leash, you a jig without a puzzlе

Caught a double homi but u know I killed a dozen

You will not find a body Jеffrey dahmer is my cousin

When I was only 6, I would always play with scissors

I’d only play the game when I can murder all my victims

Emphasis on six, I only fuck with triple digits

And if I miss the stick then I just pull the fucken trigger

Legally insane, hallucinate these fucken demons

They whisper evil thoughts, the darkness tells me I need treatment

They feed me fucken pills, strap me up inside a box

So I don’t get the urge to fucken murder like I want

SCHIZO out the cell, but still been havin evil thoughts

Find a victim in a cross, take the skin and rip it off

I go off, and grab a hostage

I put a 12 to his head and blow it off ‘em

Burnin down the churches cause they all runnin by a cult

Usin dono money, and they pass it as a miracle

That is why i’m cynical, your head on my Pedestal

Hauntin for some blood, we the wolves from the Underworld

Go insane, is the make up of all of the elements of my brain

Tellin my demons i’m plannin to feed ‘em

I’m feedin ‘em off of the pain

But nothin in this life will ever be a guarantee

Cause you dropped the seed

Separatin Adam from the Eve

What a soulless deed

World is fillin wit apologies

Mental patients wit no patience, lookin in biology

Cannibalistic murders, some of the names you heard of

Dahmer, Albert, Gibson

Finishin up their meals in the kitchen