Blood on My Hands - Vinnie Paz

Ya’ll ain’t about nothin', I’m bustin' a hundred rounds at you

I’m Pack Pistol Pazzy, I’m poppin' like 40 rounds at you

This bulldog barks and it mean that I’m sickin' hounds on you

We puff a pound or a two, Pazienza just insurmountable

The Goma-2 raw, and the substance wasn’t compoundable

It’s bodies everywhere and they try to hold me accountable

The Burberry bag is boujee and booty bountiful

The bankroll blickie, the name’s ain’t even pronounceable

It ain’t an ounce of you that could fathom havin'

The weaponry is wonder it’s numbers ain’t even calculable

I stomp you out and pull the Beretta, money, it’s marvelous

The gladiator war, fight with Gannicus, this is Spartacus!

The seventy disciples of Judaizers is the Barnabas

A reconstruction of the Acropolis Pagus pardon us

The deeper the abyss is the deeper into the Tartarus

The AK diesel the drum is a hippopotamus

He a dead man walkin' - that’s a body!

Get his head popped talkin' - that’s a body!

This a hundred round drum — that’s a body!

Where we from?

That’s the slum — that’s a body!

He a dead man walkin' - that’s a body!

Get his head popped talkin' - that’s a body!

This a hundred round drum — that’s a body!

(ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta)

Where we from?

That’s the slum — that’s a body!

Yeah, y’all still about nothing, I’m choppin' you with a tomahawk

Allah hates a coward, you do a lot of vagina talk

It’s «as-salamu alaykum», I greet him with lots of Gaza talk

Headshot medulla oblongata on a plaza walk

I caught too many homi’s, now it’s time for me to find a morgue

Go here a rhymer dawg, it’s another vagina monologue

I’ll take you to a digital death, the place with no analog

I have your bones shakin', I break 'em like marijuana laws

There ain’t no other boss that’s as ill as me, son, it’s lunacy

The leftist ideology is killin' the black community

You need a couple bodies, just give me the opportunity

You milli mild muhfuckers is makin' buffoonery

It ain’t no unity, ain’t no talkin' it out, it’s hammer time

I’m movin', B, but I don’t be talkin', I’m like a pantomime

And I don’t think that bein' a pussy should be romanticized

I run with motherfuckers that’s diddy-boppin' and vandalize

He a dead man walkin' - that’s a body!

Get his head popped talkin' - that’s a body!

This a hundred round drum — that’s a body!

Where we from?

That’s the slum — that’s a body!

He a dead man walkin' - that’s a body!

Get his head popped talkin' - that’s a body!

This a hundred round drum — that’s a body!

(ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta)

Where we from?

That’s the slum — that’s a body!