The Wicketshit Will Never Die

[VERSE 1] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6 Here comes the voodoo What you going to do when my crew Back from the dead once more again Fucking up the flow again Fuck it here we go again Oh, not me again Last time I wrecked shit Burned down the church Coming through like the Exorcist Next to this you getting put on my shit list Pro-Lifers get this You can't fuck with this Wicket, wild Wicket style I don't give a fuck 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 Kicking 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 the beast got me fiending for a cracker Jack be nimble Make your body tremble Cardiac arrest from the one in the chest Then I'll 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 Wicketshit will never die [VERSE 2] Once again I resurrected Niggas unexpected the closed casket When I leaped out and blasted a basketcase Symptoms of Insanity I'm not alone Having fatal thoughts of putting the chrome to my dome Now what kind of Wicketshit is Some Old Wicketshit Got so many niggas all over the Devil's dick and shit Stay up off my dick My style's sick But I'm so sick of this Hellterskkkelter Bite my shit, it's so ridiculous I know my shit's phatter than Luther Vandross Psychic connection want to hit me with the Holy Ghost Overdose, diagnose, niggas in a comotose Once I buck, buck you Nigga motherfuck you Voodoo, wicked child born a bastard Visions of bloody bodies being blasted Thinking of excuses Voices in my head Mental abuses To lose my mind on the flatline Refuses to answer You can bless shit 'til you question Me and myself versus Smith & Wesson I'm that nigga with the wicket ass flow Bitch you better act like you know Cause the Wicketshit will never die [VERSE 3] The Wicketshit will never 187 Never go to Heaven, and Fuck that Reverend All day whenever and Feel like giving up Mind starts blowing up Some Old Wicketshit Once again I'm throwing up a fit I'm never going to get into Heaven That's why I bought me a .357 Fuck a Reverend And God I can't trust, it's true So when I go to Hell Better me and not you I'm going to 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 niggas have died when I write my recital They don't understand that I gotta plan for the Klan The Aryan Nation, white caucasian I'm sick of all this bullshit I'd rather be dead But first I'd rather 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'll cry But the Wicketshit will never die