Frontline terror

[Intro] When there is no more room in hell The dead will walk the Earth [Verse 1: Fliptrix] Body parts flying life's hard like cars dyeing Wanna say its gunna get better but im part flying So gutter make a widows star sign start crying Pain in the liquid form drippin' from my torn eyelid Situation volatile Operation trident All i here is war talk court orders more violence Far from a walk in the park its a minefield Pressures building up about to blow Thats how my mind feels Never use my signature No ones got the right deals Clutching at my mic skills And running for the high heels Puffin' on a blunt is death Clucking for some nice thrills Losing my emotions that i thought i was designed to feel Knowing deep inside That its something only time will heal Like turning people into road kill behind the wheel Close your eyes see them still Still a still life still dead skulls fractured Road collapses Rotten corpse broken mattress Candle lit total sadness Falling backwards into holes of blackness So follow me let your soul get captured With no return 'cos your ghost holds the warranty burn Your body in a quarantine Search for your inner peace Abandon that grief stack cans like police The tactical man thinks deep on the dilagence beat [Hook] x2 We hold it down with the frontline terror Raising the ground up Gutter style forever Lace your roots Mask up and dont mess up Hold it down on the frontline The frontline [Verse 2: Ramson Badbonez] Check out my frontline terror Rendering error makers Im the pressure blending babies In the shredder for my leasure Make her bru the naked crew Who came into this danger room With barbarians war im the wanderers in ancient spooz My coalition holds position Im the war cloud You bought your little sister in the whore house With her draws down Karich the garcy Had to get her knickers off for half a gram of marley Im smacked arms and tracks Im carving shanks from larva lamps Heavy artillery blasting you imagery Pandemonium in the street But no police to walk the beat Fake fuckers catchin that map Cuddling face huggers Alien smugglers got map Krusader space chuggers Open up the stash and load that gat And let it vent Holy book fanatics won't back chat My seventh sense An old man with gifted ears And a twisted beared Who disappeared nine hundred years ago Speaking like sixty years In chronological or alphabetacal order I grab the neck of your daughter And splash her head in the water Sawn off shotty filled up with copper coins And hot lead Gate crashing your complex with no feds To drop dead My frontline terror Whatever the weather apply the pressure Blend your friends up in the shredder for my leasure My frontline terror Whatever the weather apply the pressure Blend your friends up in the shredder for my leasure