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lirik lagu patrick bateman 2 – myles malice

burning sensation within my veins, no containing it
when its loose no restraining it, time he spoke to ya woken by lame sh-t
f-ck that! malice in this b-tch wit no patience
so ya’ll better back the f-ck up out the way its time for patrick bateman b-tch
i’ve got no mercy for rappers, empathy’s something i lack
i’ll hack em up into tid bits and stuff that b-tch in a sack
no qualms with that, i’m absorbing the soul obtained from my snack
then i’ll regurgitate the wackness, cuz that cr-ps like a cap of the epicack
what you know bout that? its a f-ckin fact if you take it in it’ll make ya vomit
i’m insidious a deviant pessimist to the death of this
i’m whipping out the cleaver to clean up then feed upon em
i know i, lose control, when punks try and f-ck with me
i’ll slice, spread apart, explore their gore, why of course they’ll bleed
profusely, don’t believe me? push me b-tch
shoulda never mistook me for a p-ssy
as if i could be, you can get gut f-cked by captain hooky
cut the b-tch up perfectly, purposely thin for the peppered jerky
lyrical incisions, surgical precision if i twitch you’ll certainly
be, spurtin the burgundy , paint a picture with the m-th- f-cka
fessin up fervently, but i really wanna be the one to beat em with the heater
like a p-ssy imma eat em but it never occurred to me
that you’d be bitin the curb for me
spittin with a tip toe b-tch, you f-cked up
bumping that sh-ts absurd to me, for the perjury, murder in the 1st degree
hit em with the mac attack back to back like, bbbbdddddaaattt bap
putcha head up in the back pack
neva leave it intact, when i pack my axe
your a fact in my sick catharsis
i’m a demented artist, here to harvest your meat get up in your dreams
but i creep unseen, if your looking for me, ya beta spark that candle b-tch
cuz i be, off in the darkness, thoughts of rot in the spot when i spit
your bars, horrendous, i’m off my rocker, keep gawkin ya bish
this oughta be offered to me, i’m an oddity, possibly, sick with
all the above, none left for wannabes toppin my hit list
iddy biddy kiddies who be thinking that they really really raw
stickin a blade up in achiles kickin em over look at em crawl
now i gotta put a blade up in your bitty, she bled so pretty
never will i pity walter mitty when i really got the secret life
i’m a twisted f-ck, better run wit a hustle
imma beat em on the beat wit a bat up until they buckle
break a blade off in a b-tch leave em panicin in a puddle
its never subtle when i pick up the mic and unlike the dim light neva dimming the hype
so why not invite me in, the dark knight within will take a neck out with a big ole bite
what the blood type?, tastes o, but b negative, spit (rap)reptilian bound ta be venomous
paint a dark pic, reminiscent of, mutilated m-th- f-ckas l!ckin blood up for the h-ll of it
i dont wanna be the one to hit em with the blame
but you m-th- f-ckas tryin to put your d-ck up in the game
if you spittin anything but the sickness, shame
put a bullet in your brain when you speak my name
it’s malice, got a demon in me, it’s malice, gonna be feeding you’ll see
its malice, gonna be bleeding your team, it’s malice, gonna be keeping your spleen
so make no mistake ya mof-ck i’m preppin the guillotine
spittin my sh-t so patrick bateman there ain’t no taming of the maming i bring
but if b-tches get to trippin saying “d-mn your sh-ts so violent, why?”
i’ve told you m-th- f-ckas a thousand times, i’m just a pretty sick guy!
i’m a pretty sick guy
i’m a pretty sick guy
i’m a pretty sick guy
i’m a pretty sick guy
when you get me heated i will never be defeated now i sound a bit conceited so i’d better wave bye
but before i get to steppin stick a shiv up in your eye cuz, i’m a pretty sick guy

- myles malice

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