[{"id":16620791,"name":"Underground (Necro)","trackName":"Underground (Necro)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Instrumentals Vol. 1","duration":351.1171584,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (Necro)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Instrumentals Vol. 1\n  duration_ms: 351117\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":11373198,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Necro: The Box Set, Vol. 1","duration":353.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: 'Necro: The Box Set, Vol. 1'\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":37222189,"name":"Underground (remastered instrumental version)","trackName":"Underground (remastered instrumental version)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Necro Instrumentals, Volume 1","duration":351.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[sung]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground\nOr have they...\nYo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\nIt's too pretty\nWhat are you gonna do to it Necro?\nTake a razor, and slice it!\n[Necro]\nYo, peep this shit like this\nKill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\nWhen I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\nI'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\nRecognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\nBrain washing has officially begun\nKid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\nIt's rainin, as God pisses on earth\nI drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\nDevour my shower that's golden\nI'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\nsmoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\nHow can I make my point to you fools?\nI'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\nand on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\nI'm above the constitution\nMy shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\nMy rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\nYour eyes will burn once the acid hits\nYou'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\njumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\nLife is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\nI've been flippin since 1983\nI always took pain as a game\nWhen I was six I cracked my head open\nand looked in the mirror to see my brain\nWonder why I'm like an icicle?\nAt five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\nMad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\nPeeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\nRunnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\nI didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\nTaste me you will see more is all you need\nDedicated to how I'm killin you!\nYou're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\nYou're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\nThe customer's always right but this time the customer's left\non a stretcher gaspin for breath\nThe cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\nPlus you're already dead if you're homely\nSo bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\nMost of New York's population is filled with mental patients\npretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\nGotthem got rapists by the pile\nWatch out for goons of vile infested smiles\nand dreams of molestin your child\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYou gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for a nasty bitch\nMake sure your girl's syphillis clean\nbefore I slide my tongue up in her\nDon't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\nMy ventriloquism hits you like ism\nSprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\nI rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\nRan up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\nBlast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\nCall, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\nYou know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\nKill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\nRockin Timb's with razors on the tip\nToday's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\nI'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\non point like an assassination hit your knot\nSome one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\ntwo clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\nInject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\nForce you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\nBuy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\nI talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\nThe violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\nPenetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\nYou'll soon be fractions and numerator\nof a denominator when I play dominator\nWhen you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\nPeepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\nYour - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\nYou won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\nNo anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\nthat's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\nand a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\nI threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\nA pebble, a worm, a snail\nI'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\nUhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\nAnd another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\nAnd another blunt filled with dust\nLast week someone tried to put me in a coffin\nThat's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\nI'm starting to feel important\nFor some cats smilin ain't their style\nBut there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\nGore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\nIt'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\nI main..line to main-tain\nI'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for nasty bitch..\nYou fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n[sung: repeat until fade]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (remastered instrumental version)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Necro Instrumentals, Volume 1\n  duration_ms: 351000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [sung]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n  Or have they...\n  Yo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\n  It's too pretty\n  What are you gonna do to it Necro?\n  Take a razor, and slice it!\n  [Necro]\n  Yo, peep this shit like this\n  Kill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\n  When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\n  I'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\n  Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\n  Brain washing has officially begun\n  Kid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\n  It's rainin, as God pisses on earth\n  I drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\n  Devour my shower that's golden\n  I'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\n  smoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\n  How can I make my point to you fools?\n  I'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\n  and on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\n  I'm above the constitution\n  My shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\n  My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\n  Your eyes will burn once the acid hits\n  You'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\n  jumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\n  Life is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\n  I've been flippin since 1983\n  I always took pain as a game\n  When I was six I cracked my head open\n  and looked in the mirror to see my brain\n  Wonder why I'm like an icicle?\n  At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\n  Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\n  Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\n  Runnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\n  I didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\n  Taste me you will see more is all you need\n  Dedicated to how I'm killin you!\n  You're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\n  You're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\n  The customer's always right but this time the customer's left\n  on a stretcher gaspin for breath\n  The cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\n  Plus you're already dead if you're homely\n  So bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\n  Most of New York's population is filled with mental patients\n  pretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\n  Gotthem got rapists by the pile\n  Watch out for goons of vile infested smiles\n  and dreams of molestin your child\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  You gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for a nasty bitch\n  Make sure your girl's syphillis clean\n  before I slide my tongue up in her\n  Don't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\n  My ventriloquism hits you like ism\n  Sprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\n  I rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n  1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\n  Ran up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\n  Blast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\n  Call, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\n  You know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\n  Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\n  Rockin Timb's with razors on the tip\n  Today's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\n  I'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\n  on point like an assassination hit your knot\n  Some one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\n  two clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\n  Inject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\n  Force you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\n  Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\n  I talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\n  The violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\n  Penetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\n  You'll soon be fractions and numerator\n  of a denominator when I play dominator\n  When you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\n  Peepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\n  Your - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\n  You won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\n  No anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\n  that's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\n  and a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\n  I threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\n  A pebble, a worm, a snail\n  I'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\n  Uhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\n  And another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\n  And another blunt filled with dust\n  Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin\n  That's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\n  I'm starting to feel important\n  For some cats smilin ain't their style\n  But there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\n  Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\n  It'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\n  I main..line to main-tain\n  I'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  Yo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for nasty bitch..\n  You fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n  [sung: repeat until fade]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n"},{"id":9376334,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Get on Your Knees / Underground","duration":353.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Get on Your Knees / Underground\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":30717556,"name":"Underground (clean)","trackName":"Underground (clean)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Underground BW Get On Your Kne","duration":352.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (clean)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Underground BW Get On Your Kne\n  duration_ms: 352000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":28735714,"name":"Underground (filthy)","trackName":"Underground (filthy)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Underground BW Get On Your Kne","duration":351.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (filthy)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Underground BW Get On Your Kne\n  duration_ms: 351000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":19386089,"name":"Underground (Rules4ghouls) (Filthy Perversion)","trackName":"Underground (Rules4ghouls) (Filthy Perversion)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Get On Your Knees / Underground","duration":328.994417,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (Rules4ghouls) (Filthy Perversion)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Get On Your Knees / Underground\n  duration_ms: 328994\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":20177751,"name":"Underground (Rules4ghouls) (clean Incision)","trackName":"Underground (Rules4ghouls) (clean Incision)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Get On Your Knees / Underground","duration":326.386083,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (Rules4ghouls) (clean Incision)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Get On Your Knees / Underground\n  duration_ms: 326386\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":19725398,"name":"Underground (Rules4ghouls) (Insert‐Da‐Mental)","trackName":"Underground (Rules4ghouls) (Insert‐Da‐Mental)","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Get On Your Knees / Underground","duration":306.1715,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground (Rules4ghouls) (Insert‐Da‐Mental)\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Get On Your Knees / Underground\n  duration_ms: 306172\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":272227,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"I Need Drugs","duration":351.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[sung]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground\nOr have they...\nYo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\nIt's too pretty\nWhat are you gonna do to it Necro?\nTake a razor, and slice it!\n[Necro]\nYo, peep this shit like this\nKill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\nWhen I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\nI'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\nRecognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\nBrain washing has officially begun\nKid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\nIt's rainin, as God pisses on earth\nI drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\nDevour my shower that's golden\nI'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\nsmoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\nHow can I make my point to you fools?\nI'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\nand on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\nI'm above the constitution\nMy shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\nMy rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\nYour eyes will burn once the acid hits\nYou'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\njumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\nLife is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\nI've been flippin since 1983\nI always took pain as a game\nWhen I was six I cracked my head open\nand looked in the mirror to see my brain\nWonder why I'm like an icicle?\nAt five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\nMad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\nPeeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\nRunnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\nI didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\nTaste me you will see more is all you need\nDedicated to how I'm killin you!\nYou're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\nYou're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\nThe customer's always right but this time the customer's left\non a stretcher gaspin for breath\nThe cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\nPlus you're already dead if you're homely\nSo bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\nMost of New York's population is filled with mental patients\npretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\nGotthem got rapists by the pile\nWatch out for goons of vile infested smiles\nand dreams of molestin your child\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYou gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for a nasty bitch\nMake sure your girl's syphillis clean\nbefore I slide my tongue up in her\nDon't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\nMy ventriloquism hits you like ism\nSprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\nI rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\nRan up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\nBlast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\nCall, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\nYou know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\nKill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\nRockin Timb's with razors on the tip\nToday's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\nI'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\non point like an assassination hit your knot\nSome one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\ntwo clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\nInject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\nForce you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\nBuy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\nI talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\nThe violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\nPenetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\nYou'll soon be fractions and numerator\nof a denominator when I play dominator\nWhen you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\nPeepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\nYour - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\nYou won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\nNo anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\nthat's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\nand a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\nI threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\nA pebble, a worm, a snail\nI'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\nUhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\nAnd another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\nAnd another blunt filled with dust\nLast week someone tried to put me in a coffin\nThat's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\nI'm starting to feel important\nFor some cats smilin ain't their style\nBut there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\nGore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\nIt'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\nI main..line to main-tain\nI'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for nasty bitch..\nYou fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n[sung: repeat until fade]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: I Need Drugs\n  duration_ms: 351000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [sung]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n  Or have they...\n  Yo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\n  It's too pretty\n  What are you gonna do to it Necro?\n  Take a razor, and slice it!\n  [Necro]\n  Yo, peep this shit like this\n  Kill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\n  When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\n  I'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\n  Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\n  Brain washing has officially begun\n  Kid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\n  It's rainin, as God pisses on earth\n  I drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\n  Devour my shower that's golden\n  I'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\n  smoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\n  How can I make my point to you fools?\n  I'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\n  and on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\n  I'm above the constitution\n  My shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\n  My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\n  Your eyes will burn once the acid hits\n  You'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\n  jumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\n  Life is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\n  I've been flippin since 1983\n  I always took pain as a game\n  When I was six I cracked my head open\n  and looked in the mirror to see my brain\n  Wonder why I'm like an icicle?\n  At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\n  Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\n  Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\n  Runnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\n  I didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\n  Taste me you will see more is all you need\n  Dedicated to how I'm killin you!\n  You're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\n  You're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\n  The customer's always right but this time the customer's left\n  on a stretcher gaspin for breath\n  The cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\n  Plus you're already dead if you're homely\n  So bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\n  Most of New York's population is filled with mental patients\n  pretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\n  Gotthem got rapists by the pile\n  Watch out for goons of vile infested smiles\n  and dreams of molestin your child\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  You gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for a nasty bitch\n  Make sure your girl's syphillis clean\n  before I slide my tongue up in her\n  Don't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\n  My ventriloquism hits you like ism\n  Sprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\n  I rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n  1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\n  Ran up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\n  Blast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\n  Call, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\n  You know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\n  Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\n  Rockin Timb's with razors on the tip\n  Today's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\n  I'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\n  on point like an assassination hit your knot\n  Some one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\n  two clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\n  Inject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\n  Force you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\n  Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\n  I talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\n  The violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\n  Penetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\n  You'll soon be fractions and numerator\n  of a denominator when I play dominator\n  When you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\n  Peepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\n  Your - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\n  You won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\n  No anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\n  that's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\n  and a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\n  I threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\n  A pebble, a worm, a snail\n  I'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\n  Uhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\n  And another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\n  And another blunt filled with dust\n  Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin\n  That's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\n  I'm starting to feel important\n  For some cats smilin ain't their style\n  But there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\n  Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\n  It'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\n  I main..line to main-tain\n  I'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  Yo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for nasty bitch..\n  You fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n  [sung: repeat until fade]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n"},{"id":16518686,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"I Need Drugs","duration":353.018776,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: I Need Drugs\n  duration_ms: 353019\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":15826321,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Pre-Kill, Volume II","duration":353.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Pre-Kill, Volume II\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":11373576,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Instrumentals, Vol. 1 (Remastered)","duration":351.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Instrumentals, Vol. 1 (Remastered)\n  duration_ms: 351000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":9416308,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"NECRO","albumName":"The Pre-Kill Vol. 2","duration":353.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: NECRO\n  album: The Pre-Kill Vol. 2\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":9376335,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Sadist Hitz","duration":353.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Sadist Hitz\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":33737716,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"I Need Drugs","duration":188.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[sung]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground\nOr have they...\nYo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\nIt's too pretty\nWhat are you gonna do to it Necro?\nTake a razor, and slice it!\n[Necro]\nYo, peep this shit like this\nKill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\nWhen I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\nI'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\nRecognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\nBrain washing has officially begun\nKid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\nIt's rainin, as God pisses on earth\nI drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\nDevour my shower that's golden\nI'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\nsmoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\nHow can I make my point to you fools?\nI'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\nand on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\nI'm above the constitution\nMy shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\nMy rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\nYour eyes will burn once the acid hits\nYou'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\njumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\nLife is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\nI've been flippin since 1983\nI always took pain as a game\nWhen I was six I cracked my head open\nand looked in the mirror to see my brain\nWonder why I'm like an icicle?\nAt five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\nMad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\nPeeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\nRunnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\nI didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\nTaste me you will see more is all you need\nDedicated to how I'm killin you!\nYou're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\nYou're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\nThe customer's always right but this time the customer's left\non a stretcher gaspin for breath\nThe cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\nPlus you're already dead if you're homely\nSo bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\nMost of New York's population is filled with mental patients\npretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\nGotthem got rapists by the pile\nWatch out for goons of vile infested smiles\nand dreams of molestin your child\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYou gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for a nasty bitch\nMake sure your girl's syphillis clean\nbefore I slide my tongue up in her\nDon't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\nMy ventriloquism hits you like ism\nSprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\nI rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\nRan up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\nBlast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\nCall, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\nYou know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\nKill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\nRockin Timb's with razors on the tip\nToday's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\nI'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\non point like an assassination hit your knot\nSome one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\ntwo clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\nInject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\nForce you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\nBuy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\nI talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\nThe violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\nPenetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\nYou'll soon be fractions and numerator\nof a denominator when I play dominator\nWhen you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\nPeepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\nYour - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\nYou won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\nNo anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\nthat's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\nand a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\nI threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\nA pebble, a worm, a snail\nI'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\nUhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\nAnd another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\nAnd another blunt filled with dust\nLast week someone tried to put me in a coffin\nThat's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\nI'm starting to feel important\nFor some cats smilin ain't their style\nBut there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\nGore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\nIt'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\nI main..line to main-tain\nI'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for nasty bitch..\nYou fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n[sung: repeat until fade]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: I Need Drugs\n  duration_ms: 188000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [sung]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n  Or have they...\n  Yo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\n  It's too pretty\n  What are you gonna do to it Necro?\n  Take a razor, and slice it!\n  [Necro]\n  Yo, peep this shit like this\n  Kill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\n  When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\n  I'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\n  Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\n  Brain washing has officially begun\n  Kid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\n  It's rainin, as God pisses on earth\n  I drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\n  Devour my shower that's golden\n  I'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\n  smoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\n  How can I make my point to you fools?\n  I'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\n  and on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\n  I'm above the constitution\n  My shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\n  My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\n  Your eyes will burn once the acid hits\n  You'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\n  jumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\n  Life is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\n  I've been flippin since 1983\n  I always took pain as a game\n  When I was six I cracked my head open\n  and looked in the mirror to see my brain\n  Wonder why I'm like an icicle?\n  At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\n  Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\n  Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\n  Runnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\n  I didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\n  Taste me you will see more is all you need\n  Dedicated to how I'm killin you!\n  You're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\n  You're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\n  The customer's always right but this time the customer's left\n  on a stretcher gaspin for breath\n  The cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\n  Plus you're already dead if you're homely\n  So bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\n  Most of New York's population is filled with mental patients\n  pretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\n  Gotthem got rapists by the pile\n  Watch out for goons of vile infested smiles\n  and dreams of molestin your child\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  You gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for a nasty bitch\n  Make sure your girl's syphillis clean\n  before I slide my tongue up in her\n  Don't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\n  My ventriloquism hits you like ism\n  Sprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\n  I rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n  1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\n  Ran up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\n  Blast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\n  Call, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\n  You know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\n  Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\n  Rockin Timb's with razors on the tip\n  Today's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\n  I'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\n  on point like an assassination hit your knot\n  Some one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\n  two clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\n  Inject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\n  Force you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\n  Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\n  I talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\n  The violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\n  Penetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\n  You'll soon be fractions and numerator\n  of a denominator when I play dominator\n  When you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\n  Peepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\n  Your - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\n  You won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\n  No anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\n  that's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\n  and a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\n  I threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\n  A pebble, a worm, a snail\n  I'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\n  Uhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\n  And another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\n  And another blunt filled with dust\n  Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin\n  That's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\n  I'm starting to feel important\n  For some cats smilin ain't their style\n  But there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\n  Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\n  It'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\n  I main..line to main-tain\n  I'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  Yo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for nasty bitch..\n  You fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n  [sung: repeat until fade]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n"},{"id":28551663,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Instrumentals Vol. 1","duration":351.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[sung]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground\nOr have they...\nYo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\nIt's too pretty\nWhat are you gonna do to it Necro?\nTake a razor, and slice it!\n[Necro]\nYo, peep this shit like this\nKill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\nWhen I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\nI'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\nRecognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\nBrain washing has officially begun\nKid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\nIt's rainin, as God pisses on earth\nI drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\nDevour my shower that's golden\nI'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\nsmoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\nHow can I make my point to you fools?\nI'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\nand on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\nI'm above the constitution\nMy shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\nMy rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\nYour eyes will burn once the acid hits\nYou'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\njumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\nLife is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\nI've been flippin since 1983\nI always took pain as a game\nWhen I was six I cracked my head open\nand looked in the mirror to see my brain\nWonder why I'm like an icicle?\nAt five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\nMad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\nPeeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\nRunnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\nI didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\nTaste me you will see more is all you need\nDedicated to how I'm killin you!\nYou're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\nYou're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\nThe customer's always right but this time the customer's left\non a stretcher gaspin for breath\nThe cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\nPlus you're already dead if you're homely\nSo bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\nMost of New York's population is filled with mental patients\npretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\nGotthem got rapists by the pile\nWatch out for goons of vile infested smiles\nand dreams of molestin your child\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYou gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for a nasty bitch\nMake sure your girl's syphillis clean\nbefore I slide my tongue up in her\nDon't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\nMy ventriloquism hits you like ism\nSprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\nI rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\nRan up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\nBlast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\nCall, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\nYou know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\nKill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\nRockin Timb's with razors on the tip\nToday's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\nI'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\non point like an assassination hit your knot\nSome one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\ntwo clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\nInject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\nForce you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\nBuy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\nI talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\nThe violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\nPenetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\nYou'll soon be fractions and numerator\nof a denominator when I play dominator\nWhen you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\nPeepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\nYour - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\nYou won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\nNo anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\nthat's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\nand a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\nI threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\nA pebble, a worm, a snail\nI'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\nUhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\nAnd another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\nAnd another blunt filled with dust\nLast week someone tried to put me in a coffin\nThat's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\nI'm starting to feel important\nFor some cats smilin ain't their style\nBut there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\nGore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\nIt'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\nI main..line to main-tain\nI'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for nasty bitch..\nYou fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n[sung: repeat until fade]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Instrumentals Vol. 1\n  duration_ms: 351000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [sung]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n  Or have they...\n  Yo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\n  It's too pretty\n  What are you gonna do to it Necro?\n  Take a razor, and slice it!\n  [Necro]\n  Yo, peep this shit like this\n  Kill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\n  When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\n  I'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\n  Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\n  Brain washing has officially begun\n  Kid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\n  It's rainin, as God pisses on earth\n  I drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\n  Devour my shower that's golden\n  I'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\n  smoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\n  How can I make my point to you fools?\n  I'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\n  and on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\n  I'm above the constitution\n  My shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\n  My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\n  Your eyes will burn once the acid hits\n  You'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\n  jumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\n  Life is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\n  I've been flippin since 1983\n  I always took pain as a game\n  When I was six I cracked my head open\n  and looked in the mirror to see my brain\n  Wonder why I'm like an icicle?\n  At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\n  Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\n  Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\n  Runnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\n  I didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\n  Taste me you will see more is all you need\n  Dedicated to how I'm killin you!\n  You're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\n  You're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\n  The customer's always right but this time the customer's left\n  on a stretcher gaspin for breath\n  The cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\n  Plus you're already dead if you're homely\n  So bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\n  Most of New York's population is filled with mental patients\n  pretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\n  Gotthem got rapists by the pile\n  Watch out for goons of vile infested smiles\n  and dreams of molestin your child\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  You gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for a nasty bitch\n  Make sure your girl's syphillis clean\n  before I slide my tongue up in her\n  Don't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\n  My ventriloquism hits you like ism\n  Sprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\n  I rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n  1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\n  Ran up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\n  Blast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\n  Call, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\n  You know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\n  Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\n  Rockin Timb's with razors on the tip\n  Today's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\n  I'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\n  on point like an assassination hit your knot\n  Some one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\n  two clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\n  Inject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\n  Force you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\n  Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\n  I talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\n  The violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\n  Penetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\n  You'll soon be fractions and numerator\n  of a denominator when I play dominator\n  When you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\n  Peepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\n  Your - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\n  You won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\n  No anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\n  that's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\n  and a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\n  I threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\n  A pebble, a worm, a snail\n  I'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\n  Uhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\n  And another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\n  And another blunt filled with dust\n  Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin\n  That's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\n  I'm starting to feel important\n  For some cats smilin ain't their style\n  But there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\n  Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\n  It'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\n  I main..line to main-tain\n  I'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  Yo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for nasty bitch..\n  You fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n  [sung: repeat until fade]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n"},{"id":39597750,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"I Need Drugs Instrumentals","duration":306.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[sung]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground\nOr have they...\nYo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\nIt's too pretty\nWhat are you gonna do to it Necro?\nTake a razor, and slice it!\n[Necro]\nYo, peep this shit like this\nKill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\nWhen I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\nI'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\nRecognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\nBrain washing has officially begun\nKid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\nIt's rainin, as God pisses on earth\nI drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\nDevour my shower that's golden\nI'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\nsmoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\nHow can I make my point to you fools?\nI'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\nand on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\nI'm above the constitution\nMy shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\nMy rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\nYour eyes will burn once the acid hits\nYou'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\njumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\nLife is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\nI've been flippin since 1983\nI always took pain as a game\nWhen I was six I cracked my head open\nand looked in the mirror to see my brain\nWonder why I'm like an icicle?\nAt five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\nMad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\nPeeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\nRunnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\nI didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\nTaste me you will see more is all you need\nDedicated to how I'm killin you!\nYou're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\nYou're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\nThe customer's always right but this time the customer's left\non a stretcher gaspin for breath\nThe cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\nPlus you're already dead if you're homely\nSo bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\nMost of New York's population is filled with mental patients\npretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\nGotthem got rapists by the pile\nWatch out for goons of vile infested smiles\nand dreams of molestin your child\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYou gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for a nasty bitch\nMake sure your girl's syphillis clean\nbefore I slide my tongue up in her\nDon't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\nMy ventriloquism hits you like ism\nSprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\nI rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\nRan up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\nBlast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\nCall, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\nYou know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\nKill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\nRockin Timb's with razors on the tip\nToday's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\nI'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\non point like an assassination hit your knot\nSome one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\ntwo clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\nInject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\nForce you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\nBuy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\nI talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\nThe violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\nPenetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\nYou'll soon be fractions and numerator\nof a denominator when I play dominator\nWhen you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\nPeepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\nYour - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\nYou won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\nNo anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\nthat's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\nand a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\nI threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\nA pebble, a worm, a snail\nI'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\nUhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\nAnd another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\nAnd another blunt filled with dust\nLast week someone tried to put me in a coffin\nThat's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\nI'm starting to feel important\nFor some cats smilin ain't their style\nBut there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\nGore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\nIt'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\nI main..line to main-tain\nI'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for nasty bitch..\nYou fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n[sung: repeat until fade]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: I Need Drugs Instrumentals\n  duration_ms: 306000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [sung]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n  Or have they...\n  Yo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\n  It's too pretty\n  What are you gonna do to it Necro?\n  Take a razor, and slice it!\n  [Necro]\n  Yo, peep this shit like this\n  Kill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\n  When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\n  I'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\n  Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\n  Brain washing has officially begun\n  Kid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\n  It's rainin, as God pisses on earth\n  I drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\n  Devour my shower that's golden\n  I'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\n  smoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\n  How can I make my point to you fools?\n  I'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\n  and on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\n  I'm above the constitution\n  My shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\n  My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\n  Your eyes will burn once the acid hits\n  You'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\n  jumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\n  Life is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\n  I've been flippin since 1983\n  I always took pain as a game\n  When I was six I cracked my head open\n  and looked in the mirror to see my brain\n  Wonder why I'm like an icicle?\n  At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\n  Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\n  Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\n  Runnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\n  I didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\n  Taste me you will see more is all you need\n  Dedicated to how I'm killin you!\n  You're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\n  You're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\n  The customer's always right but this time the customer's left\n  on a stretcher gaspin for breath\n  The cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\n  Plus you're already dead if you're homely\n  So bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\n  Most of New York's population is filled with mental patients\n  pretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\n  Gotthem got rapists by the pile\n  Watch out for goons of vile infested smiles\n  and dreams of molestin your child\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  You gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for a nasty bitch\n  Make sure your girl's syphillis clean\n  before I slide my tongue up in her\n  Don't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\n  My ventriloquism hits you like ism\n  Sprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\n  I rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n  1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\n  Ran up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\n  Blast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\n  Call, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\n  You know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\n  Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\n  Rockin Timb's with razors on the tip\n  Today's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\n  I'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\n  on point like an assassination hit your knot\n  Some one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\n  two clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\n  Inject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\n  Force you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\n  Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\n  I talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\n  The violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\n  Penetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\n  You'll soon be fractions and numerator\n  of a denominator when I play dominator\n  When you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\n  Peepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\n  Your - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\n  You won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\n  No anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\n  that's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\n  and a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\n  I threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\n  A pebble, a worm, a snail\n  I'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\n  Uhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\n  And another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\n  And another blunt filled with dust\n  Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin\n  That's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\n  I'm starting to feel important\n  For some cats smilin ain't their style\n  But there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\n  Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\n  It'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\n  I main..line to main-tain\n  I'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  Yo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for nasty bitch..\n  You fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n  [sung: repeat until fade]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n"},{"id":39369938,"name":"Underground","trackName":"Underground","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"Sadist Hitz","duration":343.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[sung]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground\nOr have they...\nYo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\nIt's too pretty\nWhat are you gonna do to it Necro?\nTake a razor, and slice it!\n[Necro]\nYo, peep this shit like this\nKill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\nWhen I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\nI'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\nRecognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\nBrain washing has officially begun\nKid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\nIt's rainin, as God pisses on earth\nI drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\nDevour my shower that's golden\nI'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\nsmoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\nHow can I make my point to you fools?\nI'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\nand on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\nI'm above the constitution\nMy shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\nMy rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\nYour eyes will burn once the acid hits\nYou'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\njumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\nLife is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\nI've been flippin since 1983\nI always took pain as a game\nWhen I was six I cracked my head open\nand looked in the mirror to see my brain\nWonder why I'm like an icicle?\nAt five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\nMad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\nPeeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\nRunnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\nI didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\nTaste me you will see more is all you need\nDedicated to how I'm killin you!\nYou're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\nYou're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\nThe customer's always right but this time the customer's left\non a stretcher gaspin for breath\nThe cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\nPlus you're already dead if you're homely\nSo bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\nMost of New York's population is filled with mental patients\npretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\nGotthem got rapists by the pile\nWatch out for goons of vile infested smiles\nand dreams of molestin your child\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYou gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for a nasty bitch\nMake sure your girl's syphillis clean\nbefore I slide my tongue up in her\nDon't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\nMy ventriloquism hits you like ism\nSprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\nI rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\nRan up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\nBlast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\nCall, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\nYou know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\nKill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\nRockin Timb's with razors on the tip\nToday's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\nI'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\non point like an assassination hit your knot\nSome one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\ntwo clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\nInject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\nForce you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\nBuy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\nI talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\nThe violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\nPenetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\nYou'll soon be fractions and numerator\nof a denominator when I play dominator\nWhen you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\nPeepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\nYour - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\nYou won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\nNo anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\nthat's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\nand a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\nI threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\nA pebble, a worm, a snail\nI'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\nUhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\nAnd another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\nAnd another blunt filled with dust\nLast week someone tried to put me in a coffin\nThat's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\nI'm starting to feel important\nFor some cats smilin ain't their style\nBut there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\nGore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\nIt'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\nI main..line to main-tain\nI'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\nYou gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\nextra clip when shit gets thick\nYou gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\nif he ever tries to front and diss\nYou need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\nlistening to brutal shit like this\nYo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\nspermicide for nasty bitch..\nYou fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n[sung: repeat until fade]\nI keep straining my ears to hear a sound\nMaybe someone is digging underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Underground\n  artist: Necro\n  album: Sadist Hitz\n  duration_ms: 343342\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [sung]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n  Or have they...\n  Yo man motherfuckers are clowns man; Hip-hop's too nice\n  It's too pretty\n  What are you gonna do to it Necro?\n  Take a razor, and slice it!\n  [Necro]\n  Yo, peep this shit like this\n  Kill the head, kill the body, and knows who I'ma ruin\n  When I float like a dead body and sting like peroxide on wounds\n  I'm rollin a fatty like death is comin believe it\n  Recognize the chain of command I deliver the pain you're receivin\n  Brain washing has officially begun\n  Kid you peep a psycho holdin a butcher knife dancin like Re-Run\n  It's rainin, as God pisses on earth\n  I drop bile like a vagina dismisses at birth\n  Devour my shower that's golden\n  I'm puffing the sacks, rolled in\n  smoldered flesh, holding the fresh, cancer-infested colon\n  How can I make my point to you fools?\n  I'll drop a dead A&R off a roof\n  and on his chest it'll say, \"Necro rules!\"\n  I'm above the constitution\n  My shit stays bubblin like burnt flesh\n  My rhymes are acid in Clorox solution\n  Your eyes will burn once the acid hits\n  You'll be blinded like Rosie O'Donnell\n  jumped up ten feet in the air and flashed her tits\n  Life is shady G in 1976 my parents created me\n  I've been flippin since 1983\n  I always took pain as a game\n  When I was six I cracked my head open\n  and looked in the mirror to see my brain\n  Wonder why I'm like an icicle?\n  At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son\n  Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious\n  Peeping cretons with Mephisto in their eyes made me suspicious\n  Runnin through Glenwood PJ's, as a young buck\n  I didn't dance that fresh, I burnt ants to death\n  Taste me you will see more is all you need\n  Dedicated to how I'm killin you!\n  You're unhealthy you're a felon P.O. checks your bladder\n  You're an addict; if you beat me I'll deliver you death on a platter\n  The customer's always right but this time the customer's left\n  on a stretcher gaspin for breath\n  The cipher flows like rolly polly, kill yourself slowly\n  Plus you're already dead if you're homely\n  So bitch, there's a little red dot on your skull, so pray\n  Most of New York's population is filled with mental patients\n  pretendin to be normal, pretendin to be mental patients\n  Gotthem got rapists by the pile\n  Watch out for goons of vile infested smiles\n  and dreams of molestin your child\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  You gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for a nasty bitch\n  Make sure your girl's syphillis clean\n  before I slide my tongue up in her\n  Don't you darrrrrre ruin my dinner!\n  My ventriloquism hits you like ism\n  Sprayed with raid mixed with pissim mixed blades butchery sadism\n  I rip your gat, when I twist my wrists\n  1 finger, 2 finger, 3 fingers, 4 fingers fuck it the whole fifth\n  Ran up your wife's ass gets murdered type fast\n  Blast scum up on your BC mask and dirty flash pipes flash\n  Call, plumbing we're coming inside like sluts like Kimberly Drummond\n  You know the steez, I slay my prey, day by day\n  Kill yourself, on some euthanasia shit\n  Rockin Timb's with razors on the tip\n  Today's the day to flip on a decapitation tip\n  I'm fascinated with, leavin you lacerated split\n  on point like an assassination hit your knot\n  Some one to have patience with, I'm better off lettin off\n  two clips at you face set it off to decide who's better off deaded off\n  Inject 'til you feel correct, feel the effects of my hex\n  Force you to have sex with techs, chopped at funeral next\n  Buy my poison I got triple six in my beeper\n  I talk to myself cause giving my own self therapy's cheaper\n  The violence hits you like a spliff filled with some holy pot\n  Penetrate your skull like an obituary riff from \"Slowly We Rot\"\n  You'll soon be fractions and numerator\n  of a denominator when I play dominator\n  When you're dead your brain's enbalmed with data\n  Peepin Vietnam through Vader, futuristic butcher CD-ROM cremator\n  Your - spine cracks in 3-D like Imax\n  You won't be Superman no more feel the pain climax\n  No anesthesia, even if the doctor takes some codine and combines crack\n  that's fine packed and mixed with phenobarbital liquid\n  and a Raid sprayed dime sack, nuttin numbs your future sums\n  I threw you in a wheel chair you're a crumb\n  A pebble, a worm, a snail\n  I'll be a mental patient with a red afro on thorazine when you inhale\n  Uhhhhh, uhhhhhhm uhhhhhh, another blunt filled with dust\n  And another blunt filled, and another blunt filled\n  And another blunt filled with dust\n  Last week someone tried to put me in a coffin\n  That's the second time a nigga tried to kill me\n  I'm starting to feel important\n  For some cats smilin ain't their style\n  But there's something so evil about seeing a murderous smile it's vile\n  Gore is a tattoo on your mind, suicide's a laxative\n  It'll eat you up inside like you swallowed maggots by accident\n  I main..line to main-tain\n  I'm fightin the biggest fight of my life\n  You gotta pack a black, glock, with, the,\n  extra clip when shit gets thick\n  You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,\n  if he ever tries to front and diss\n  You need to puff a bag, of, dro's, when,\n  listening to brutal shit like this\n  Yo you gotta rock a lamb, skin, with, the,\n  spermicide for nasty bitch..\n  You fuckin dirt bags, word is bond\n  [sung: repeat until fade]\n  I keep straining my ears to hear a sound\n  Maybe someone is digging underground\n"},{"id":14960428,"name":"12_-_underground-lhqr","trackName":"12_-_underground-lhqr","artistName":"Necro","albumName":"I Need Drugs","duration":353.084708,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 12_-_underground-lhqr\n  artist: Necro\n  album: I Need Drugs\n  duration_ms: 353085\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"}]