Yeah, yeah
Ayo, mein fuhr, it's
time.
It's
time, mein fuhr (aight, mein fuhr, begin).
Straight out the
sad dungeons of
rap.
The death drops deep as does my
gas.
I never die, 'cause to die is the distant cousin of mass.
Beyond the walls of abbuse, life is defined.
I think of death when I'm in a Belzec state of mind.
Hope the mass got some class.
My pass
don't
like no dirty grass.
Run up to the ass and get the glass.
In a Belzec state of mind.
What more could you ask for? The painfull death?
You complain about gas.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the shibboleth.
I'm rappin' to the suffering,
And I'm gonna move your buffering.
Alone, hate, BEANS, like an ash
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a rash.
I can't take the gas, can't take the
pain.
I woulda tried to please I guess I got no plane.
I'm rappin' to the buffering,
And I'm gonna move your suffering.
Yea, yaz, in a Belzec state of mind.
When I was young my distant cousin had a shibboleth.
I waz kicked out without no breath.
I never thought I'd see that meth.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my distant cousin's
seth.
A
soft owo orphans is quite the endorphins.
Thinking of death. Yaz, thinking of death (death).
