What I'm Feelin'

[Hook] The drugs keepin me high I just wanna eliminate everyone thats in sight The wicked shits alive in me and it will never die I just wanna let you know inside what I’m feeling Feelin endevoured I’m still alive Killers who cut throats the only ones that survive The wicked shits alive in me and it will never die I just wanna let you know inside what I’m feeling [Verse 1: Monoxide] I’m sick like hotel beds And getting head in a motel where My girls in the corner dead The coroner said it was an overdose So I cut his throat and left him for dead outside a mobile home I’m a stoner with his motor blown And I get high over leaving wack emcees comatose You ain’t shit, you suck So weak you got your vowels mixed up J hand me the bitch so I can pump this shit up like training day I'm holding the real killers who walk and never run away Put your fucking gun away 'For I get pissed off then piss on ya like a rainy day I ain't happy I'm the other way Staying mad as fuck and always looking to retaliate So if you wonder why I magigate Just refer to the real definition of assassinate [Hook] [Verse 2: Jamie Madrox] Here we go and were taking 'em back to basics We make a mark in any marks trying to erase it We take the number and usually we embrace it We were born in chaos with carnival faces How's that for odds Sent here to eliminate false profits and demigods of statistics Media moguls and spreaders of the falseness With they heads lopped off and bodies tied to crosses Followers have been exposed With overactive temperal lobes Up in they dome No indiviuality more clones on the production line Manufacture and faximilated rhymes for the twelfth time Thirteen's synonomous with the oddity's Stay hungry for flesh like the piranha be Killer trying to dishonor me Nothin is sacred in a dead economy So bury me deep where the haters will never bother me [Hook] [Verse 3: Jamie Madrox] They got a problem with us and the way we telling it Not a statistic refuse to be irrelevent Disorted in sick shit Ooze from every element You can blame it on my soul but the music be compelling it To do the type to make you feel it when you hear it Musical ducktape to patch the holes in your spirit No jump on fate We tomahawk with the lyrics And stay buzzworthy while your shit's on clearance [Verse 4: Monoxide] You phonier than Cinamax porn and bein torn Between being a label whore And wishin you were never born I'm not hear to scorn I'm just sayin that your nothin more than a pawn on a board in a fake war And now you fuck with the militia Whirl with that government issue Won't miss ya I ain't gotta spit a line to diss ya I got a line around the block of folks coming to get ya [Hook]