[{"id":40198711,"name":"The Underworld 2 (feat. Havoc, Kid Fade, Johnny Richter, Kool G Rap, Chino Xl, Slaine, Necro, Ruste Juxx, Kuniva, Sabac Red, Ill B","trackName":"The Underworld 2 (feat. Havoc, Kid Fade, Johnny Richter, Kool G Rap, Chino Xl, Slaine, Necro, Ruste Juxx, Kuniva, Sabac Red, Ill B","artistName":"Reel Wolf","albumName":"The Underworld 2 (Deluxe Edition)","duration":323.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"H, Living on the dark streets get your throat slit\nEyes open, nigga better stay focus\nGot my wolves in here, that kush in the air\nMake you disappear like Hokus Pokus\nWe'll never play fair, give a fuck who care\nYou heir to the throne, get aired on the throne\nMutha fucka, I'm Damien's Omen\n\nReady and willing, my pen is seated on penicillin\nDrilling or filling feelings, or pin when I banish it\nCancelling, my pen is killing\nThe villain that's hitting, drill em\nI'm chilling them, able to make a million while your blood is spilling\nYelling laws, killing series like a holocaust, watch a?\nCatching fire like a Molotov, you all are falling off\nMet them out of my peak, kid fade,\npsych war, and we are playing for keeps\n\nSo who am I?\nJohnny Richter from the West Side\n[?] goes all day, zombie like all night\n'Cause I might size you up then bite\nFuck with me, I'll rip your head out your windpipe\nYou in the panic [?]\n\nKill a man for the kilogram\nKill a man back from the front with a slug like a militant\nFeel a man nigga ran with a realer clan\nStill a hand mover nigga fat like the thriller dance\nSilverback you warm up like guerrilla plan\nStill a band filler I'm a champ 'n' you still a fan\nPop a bottle in the club then we spill a grand\nGarry Coleman your fucking head with a skillet pan\n\nThe titan that's rising from the back of the morgue\nThe barbarian created for war\nWitness the villainous minister boss\nSpit ridiculous, religious, sickening scriptures\nWith every bit of resilience and twisted wicked voice\nSimple nobody holds candles to the syllable lord\nAnd the temple be careful that's why the symbol of Hanukkah's for\nSlap a whore dressed like Macklemore at a thrift store\nI'mma cut above how you niggas think like a lobotomy's for\n\nBefore I self-destruct where I stand today\nWith a hand grenade and just pull the pin\nI'mma rant and rave, with a can of RAID\nFor you cockroaches in this piss pool of sin\nThis ghoulish grin and this mood I'm in\nThese psych drugs went and got my head all heavy\nI had the worst verse in the first Underworld\nFuck, I'm supposed to be dead already\n\nYou know me well!\nReel wolf!\nBury you in the Underworld\n\nPsychedelic, Vicodin microphone villain\nTrife like a Rikers felon, I strike your cerebellum\nNike acapella, compelling, incredible killing\nAudible, verbal, recordable murder. homie I'm chilling\nEncyclopedia, psycho media, Expedia\nCD are greedier, music industry CPR\nSmack you like crack chemicals\nPull out the gat and attack generals\nYou're whack, you lack genitals\n\nVictorious, impervious champion\nI am the streets my footprints stamped in\nEvery rap that I pin, raw A1\nSpitting like a motherfucking M4A1\nRuste Juxx my long range accurate\nLyrical monster niggas scared to do a track with\nBreak backs with the greatest of ease\nIt's Crime Heights nigga, triple OG's\n\nSomebody tell this chick in the trunk to keep it down\nIf them boys pull me over, I'm pulling them pieces out (BLOW)\nI thought I told you tell her: keep it down\nDawg I did, man she cool\nThen why the fuck her hands and feet stickin' out?\nI'm trippin', you don't want to see this long-nose I'm grippin'\nLike Scottie Pippen, I tear through him and everybody's pissin'\nKuniva don't be talkin' with snitches it's not a comedy\nWhen I crack a nigga up and leave him in stitches\nBitches\n\nThe American drug lords and African raids\nNorth American greed, and Europeans relate\nAustralia's finances, Asia is hell bound\nWith nuclear war and an Antarctican melt down\nA state of urgency so I'm proposing a call\nTo stay focused on the good and the hope for us all\nExplored seven continents within eight of these bars\nCrawl out the Underworld and see how related these are\n\nBlack mask like Jihadi John\nWax like molly wong\nRaps Tommy Tom\nBurn sherm like Bob Marley's bong\nHit that bitch with a gnarly dong\nPop off in her mouth like Mardi Gras\nWipe my dick off on her mother's couch, sorry mom\nFucking party on\nHung like Donkey Kong\nAnd in control like Marley Marl\nExploding cult leader\nMake that bitch gargle and swallow\nThen burp up a whole liter\n\nExtort your team nigga\nBeef in the street with the pork and beans nigga\nSwine on your mind, divine on my grind\nNo time to recline I'm trying to get mine\nI get it while the gettin' is good\nI'm good at gettin' it God the shit in the hood\nBoy be shootin', loud shots noise pollution\nI'm real, I don't build, I destroy your movement\nP!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Underworld 2 (feat. Havoc, Kid Fade, Johnny Richter, Kool G Rap, Chino Xl, Slaine, Necro, Ruste Juxx, Kuniva, Sabac Red, Ill B\n  artist: Reel Wolf\n  album: The Underworld 2 (Deluxe Edition)\n  duration_ms: 323082\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  H, Living on the dark streets get your throat slit\n  Eyes open, nigga better stay focus\n  Got my wolves in here, that kush in the air\n  Make you disappear like Hokus Pokus\n  We'll never play fair, give a fuck who care\n  You heir to the throne, get aired on the throne\n  Mutha fucka, I'm Damien's Omen\n\n  Ready and willing, my pen is seated on penicillin\n  Drilling or filling feelings, or pin when I banish it\n  Cancelling, my pen is killing\n  The villain that's hitting, drill em\n  I'm chilling them, able to make a million while your blood is spilling\n  Yelling laws, killing series like a holocaust, watch a?\n  Catching fire like a Molotov, you all are falling off\n  Met them out of my peak, kid fade,\n  psych war, and we are playing for keeps\n\n  So who am I?\n  Johnny Richter from the West Side\n  [?] goes all day, zombie like all night\n  'Cause I might size you up then bite\n  Fuck with me, I'll rip your head out your windpipe\n  You in the panic [?]\n\n  Kill a man for the kilogram\n  Kill a man back from the front with a slug like a militant\n  Feel a man nigga ran with a realer clan\n  Still a hand mover nigga fat like the thriller dance\n  Silverback you warm up like guerrilla plan\n  Still a band filler I'm a champ 'n' you still a fan\n  Pop a bottle in the club then we spill a grand\n  Garry Coleman your fucking head with a skillet pan\n\n  The titan that's rising from the back of the morgue\n  The barbarian created for war\n  Witness the villainous minister boss\n  Spit ridiculous, religious, sickening scriptures\n  With every bit of resilience and twisted wicked voice\n  Simple nobody holds candles to the syllable lord\n  And the temple be careful that's why the symbol of Hanukkah's for\n  Slap a whore dressed like Macklemore at a thrift store\n  I'mma cut above how you niggas think like a lobotomy's for\n\n  Before I self-destruct where I stand today\n  With a hand grenade and just pull the pin\n  I'mma rant and rave, with a can of RAID\n  For you cockroaches in this piss pool of sin\n  This ghoulish grin and this mood I'm in\n  These psych drugs went and got my head all heavy\n  I had the worst verse in the first Underworld\n  Fuck, I'm supposed to be dead already\n\n  You know me well!\n  Reel wolf!\n  Bury you in the Underworld\n\n  Psychedelic, Vicodin microphone villain\n  Trife like a Rikers felon, I strike your cerebellum\n  Nike acapella, compelling, incredible killing\n  Audible, verbal, recordable murder. homie I'm chilling\n  Encyclopedia, psycho media, Expedia\n  CD are greedier, music industry CPR\n  Smack you like crack chemicals\n  Pull out the gat and attack generals\n  You're whack, you lack genitals\n\n  Victorious, impervious champion\n  I am the streets my footprints stamped in\n  Every rap that I pin, raw A1\n  Spitting like a motherfucking M4A1\n  Ruste Juxx my long range accurate\n  Lyrical monster niggas scared to do a track with\n  Break backs with the greatest of ease\n  It's Crime Heights nigga, triple OG's\n\n  Somebody tell this chick in the trunk to keep it down\n  If them boys pull me over, I'm pulling them pieces out (BLOW)\n  I thought I told you tell her: keep it down\n  Dawg I did, man she cool\n  Then why the fuck her hands and feet stickin' out?\n  I'm trippin', you don't want to see this long-nose I'm grippin'\n  Like Scottie Pippen, I tear through him and everybody's pissin'\n  Kuniva don't be talkin' with snitches it's not a comedy\n  When I crack a nigga up and leave him in stitches\n  Bitches\n\n  The American drug lords and African raids\n  North American greed, and Europeans relate\n  Australia's finances, Asia is hell bound\n  With nuclear war and an Antarctican melt down\n  A state of urgency so I'm proposing a call\n  To stay focused on the good and the hope for us all\n  Explored seven continents within eight of these bars\n  Crawl out the Underworld and see how related these are\n\n  Black mask like Jihadi John\n  Wax like molly wong\n  Raps Tommy Tom\n  Burn sherm like Bob Marley's bong\n  Hit that bitch with a gnarly dong\n  Pop off in her mouth like Mardi Gras\n  Wipe my dick off on her mother's couch, sorry mom\n  Fucking party on\n  Hung like Donkey Kong\n  And in control like Marley Marl\n  Exploding cult leader\n  Make that bitch gargle and swallow\n  Then burp up a whole liter\n\n  Extort your team nigga\n  Beef in the street with the pork and beans nigga\n  Swine on your mind, divine on my grind\n  No time to recline I'm trying to get mine\n  I get it while the gettin' is good\n  I'm good at gettin' it God the shit in the hood\n  Boy be shootin', loud shots noise pollution\n  I'm real, I don't build, I destroy your movement\n  P!\n"},{"id":25149419,"name":"The Underworld 2 (feat. Havoc, Kid Fade, Johnny Richter, Kool G Rap, Chino Xl, Slaine, Necro, Ruste Juxx, Kuniva, Sabac Red, Ill Bill, Sean Price & DJ Illegal) [Explicit]","trackName":"The Underworld 2 (feat. Havoc, Kid Fade, Johnny Richter, Kool G Rap, Chino Xl, Slaine, Necro, Ruste Juxx, Kuniva, Sabac Red, Ill Bill, Sean Price & DJ Illegal) [Explicit]","artistName":"Reel Wolf","albumName":"The Underworld 2 (Deluxe Edition) [Explicit]","duration":323.082449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"H, Living on the dark streets get your throat slit\nEyes open, nigga better stay focus\nGot my wolves in here, that kush in the air\nMake you disappear like Hokus Pokus\nWe'll never play fair, give a fuck who care\nYou heir to the throne, get aired on the throne\nMutha fucka, I'm Damien's Omen\n\nReady and willing, my pen is seated on penicillin\nDrilling or filling feelings, or pin when I banish it\nCancelling, my pen is killing\nThe villain that's hitting, drill em\nI'm chilling them, able to make a million while your blood is spilling\nYelling laws, killing series like a holocaust, watch a?\nCatching fire like a Molotov, you all are falling off\nMet them out of my peak, kid fade,\npsych war, and we are playing for keeps\n\nSo who am I?\nJohnny Richter from the West Side\n[?] goes all day, zombie like all night\n'Cause I might size you up then bite\nFuck with me, I'll rip your head out your windpipe\nYou in the panic [?]\n\nKill a man for the kilogram\nKill a man back from the front with a slug like a militant\nFeel a man nigga ran with a realer clan\nStill a hand mover nigga fat like the thriller dance\nSilverback you warm up like guerrilla plan\nStill a band filler I'm a champ 'n' you still a fan\nPop a bottle in the club then we spill a grand\nGarry Coleman your fucking head with a skillet pan\n\nThe titan that's rising from the back of the morgue\nThe barbarian created for war\nWitness the villainous minister boss\nSpit ridiculous, religious, sickening scriptures\nWith every bit of resilience and twisted wicked voice\nSimple nobody holds candles to the syllable lord\nAnd the temple be careful that's why the symbol of Hanukkah's for\nSlap a whore dressed like Macklemore at a thrift store\nI'mma cut above how you niggas think like a lobotomy's for\n\nBefore I self-destruct where I stand today\nWith a hand grenade and just pull the pin\nI'mma rant and rave, with a can of RAID\nFor you cockroaches in this piss pool of sin\nThis ghoulish grin and this mood I'm in\nThese psych drugs went and got my head all heavy\nI had the worst verse in the first Underworld\nFuck, I'm supposed to be dead already\n\nYou know me well!\nReel wolf!\nBury you in the Underworld\n\nPsychedelic, Vicodin microphone villain\nTrife like a Rikers felon, I strike your cerebellum\nNike acapella, compelling, incredible killing\nAudible, verbal, recordable murder. homie I'm chilling\nEncyclopedia, psycho media, Expedia\nCD are greedier, music industry CPR\nSmack you like crack chemicals\nPull out the gat and attack generals\nYou're whack, you lack genitals\n\nVictorious, impervious champion\nI am the streets my footprints stamped in\nEvery rap that I pin, raw A1\nSpitting like a motherfucking M4A1\nRuste Juxx my long range accurate\nLyrical monster niggas scared to do a track with\nBreak backs with the greatest of ease\nIt's Crime Heights nigga, triple OG's\n\nSomebody tell this chick in the trunk to keep it down\nIf them boys pull me over, I'm pulling them pieces out (BLOW)\nI thought I told you tell her: keep it down\nDawg I did, man she cool\nThen why the fuck her hands and feet stickin' out?\nI'm trippin', you don't want to see this long-nose I'm grippin'\nLike Scottie Pippen, I tear through him and everybody's pissin'\nKuniva don't be talkin' with snitches it's not a comedy\nWhen I crack a nigga up and leave him in stitches\nBitches\n\nThe American drug lords and African raids\nNorth American greed, and Europeans relate\nAustralia's finances, Asia is hell bound\nWith nuclear war and an Antarctican melt down\nA state of urgency so I'm proposing a call\nTo stay focused on the good and the hope for us all\nExplored seven continents within eight of these bars\nCrawl out the Underworld and see how related these are\n\nBlack mask like Jihadi John\nWax like molly wong\nRaps Tommy Tom\nBurn sherm like Bob Marley's bong\nHit that bitch with a gnarly dong\nPop off in her mouth like Mardi Gras\nWipe my dick off on her mother's couch, sorry mom\nFucking party on\nHung like Donkey Kong\nAnd in control like Marley Marl\nExploding cult leader\nMake that bitch gargle and swallow\nThen burp up a whole liter\n\nExtort your team nigga\nBeef in the street with the pork and beans nigga\nSwine on your mind, divine on my grind\nNo time to recline I'm trying to get mine\nI get it while the gettin' is good\nI'm good at gettin' it God the shit in the hood\nBoy be shootin', loud shots noise pollution\nI'm real, I don't build, I destroy your movement\nP!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Underworld 2 (feat. Havoc, Kid Fade, Johnny Richter, Kool G Rap, Chino Xl, Slaine, Necro, Ruste Juxx, Kuniva, Sabac Red, Ill Bill, Sean Price & DJ Illegal) [Explicit]\n  artist: Reel Wolf\n  album: The Underworld 2 (Deluxe Edition) [Explicit]\n  duration_ms: 323082\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  H, Living on the dark streets get your throat slit\n  Eyes open, nigga better stay focus\n  Got my wolves in here, that kush in the air\n  Make you disappear like Hokus Pokus\n  We'll never play fair, give a fuck who care\n  You heir to the throne, get aired on the throne\n  Mutha fucka, I'm Damien's Omen\n\n  Ready and willing, my pen is seated on penicillin\n  Drilling or filling feelings, or pin when I banish it\n  Cancelling, my pen is killing\n  The villain that's hitting, drill em\n  I'm chilling them, able to make a million while your blood is spilling\n  Yelling laws, killing series like a holocaust, watch a?\n  Catching fire like a Molotov, you all are falling off\n  Met them out of my peak, kid fade,\n  psych war, and we are playing for keeps\n\n  So who am I?\n  Johnny Richter from the West Side\n  [?] goes all day, zombie like all night\n  'Cause I might size you up then bite\n  Fuck with me, I'll rip your head out your windpipe\n  You in the panic [?]\n\n  Kill a man for the kilogram\n  Kill a man back from the front with a slug like a militant\n  Feel a man nigga ran with a realer clan\n  Still a hand mover nigga fat like the thriller dance\n  Silverback you warm up like guerrilla plan\n  Still a band filler I'm a champ 'n' you still a fan\n  Pop a bottle in the club then we spill a grand\n  Garry Coleman your fucking head with a skillet pan\n\n  The titan that's rising from the back of the morgue\n  The barbarian created for war\n  Witness the villainous minister boss\n  Spit ridiculous, religious, sickening scriptures\n  With every bit of resilience and twisted wicked voice\n  Simple nobody holds candles to the syllable lord\n  And the temple be careful that's why the symbol of Hanukkah's for\n  Slap a whore dressed like Macklemore at a thrift store\n  I'mma cut above how you niggas think like a lobotomy's for\n\n  Before I self-destruct where I stand today\n  With a hand grenade and just pull the pin\n  I'mma rant and rave, with a can of RAID\n  For you cockroaches in this piss pool of sin\n  This ghoulish grin and this mood I'm in\n  These psych drugs went and got my head all heavy\n  I had the worst verse in the first Underworld\n  Fuck, I'm supposed to be dead already\n\n  You know me well!\n  Reel wolf!\n  Bury you in the Underworld\n\n  Psychedelic, Vicodin microphone villain\n  Trife like a Rikers felon, I strike your cerebellum\n  Nike acapella, compelling, incredible killing\n  Audible, verbal, recordable murder. homie I'm chilling\n  Encyclopedia, psycho media, Expedia\n  CD are greedier, music industry CPR\n  Smack you like crack chemicals\n  Pull out the gat and attack generals\n  You're whack, you lack genitals\n\n  Victorious, impervious champion\n  I am the streets my footprints stamped in\n  Every rap that I pin, raw A1\n  Spitting like a motherfucking M4A1\n  Ruste Juxx my long range accurate\n  Lyrical monster niggas scared to do a track with\n  Break backs with the greatest of ease\n  It's Crime Heights nigga, triple OG's\n\n  Somebody tell this chick in the trunk to keep it down\n  If them boys pull me over, I'm pulling them pieces out (BLOW)\n  I thought I told you tell her: keep it down\n  Dawg I did, man she cool\n  Then why the fuck her hands and feet stickin' out?\n  I'm trippin', you don't want to see this long-nose I'm grippin'\n  Like Scottie Pippen, I tear through him and everybody's pissin'\n  Kuniva don't be talkin' with snitches it's not a comedy\n  When I crack a nigga up and leave him in stitches\n  Bitches\n\n  The American drug lords and African raids\n  North American greed, and Europeans relate\n  Australia's finances, Asia is hell bound\n  With nuclear war and an Antarctican melt down\n  A state of urgency so I'm proposing a call\n  To stay focused on the good and the hope for us all\n  Explored seven continents within eight of these bars\n  Crawl out the Underworld and see how related these are\n\n  Black mask like Jihadi John\n  Wax like molly wong\n  Raps Tommy Tom\n  Burn sherm like Bob Marley's bong\n  Hit that bitch with a gnarly dong\n  Pop off in her mouth like Mardi Gras\n  Wipe my dick off on her mother's couch, sorry mom\n  Fucking party on\n  Hung like Donkey Kong\n  And in control like Marley Marl\n  Exploding cult leader\n  Make that bitch gargle and swallow\n  Then burp up a whole liter\n\n  Extort your team nigga\n  Beef in the street with the pork and beans nigga\n  Swine on your mind, divine on my grind\n  No time to recline I'm trying to get mine\n  I get it while the gettin' is good\n  I'm good at gettin' it God the shit in the hood\n  Boy be shootin', loud shots noise pollution\n  I'm real, I don't build, I destroy your movement\n  P!\n"},{"id":24690250,"name":"Reel Wolf: The Underworld (Goon MuSick Remix) [feat. Tech N9ne, Vinnie Paz, Ill Bill, Slaine, Celph Titled, King Gordy, Sid Wilson, PMD, Sean Strange, Apathy, Swifty McVay, Reef The Lost Cauze & Bizarre]","trackName":"Reel Wolf: The Underworld (Goon MuSick Remix) [feat. Tech N9ne, Vinnie Paz, Ill Bill, Slaine, Celph Titled, King Gordy, Sid Wilson, PMD, Sean Strange, Apathy, Swifty McVay, Reef The Lost Cauze & Bizarre]","artistName":"Snowgoons","albumName":"Black Snow 2","duration":331.0236729,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reel Wolf, underground shit\nI guess I'm up first, right?\nI'mma rap first?\nAlright, let me hit this blunt right quick\n\nI'm the sickest motherfucker on this earth\nThat'll fuck a transvestite, dog, or blue Smurf\nBizarre smack a bitch quick\nThen give her ass and lick while she take a shit\nFuck your period, fuck your rag\nTake it in your ass, just like a fag\nAll my fans is crazy, they love it\nThat's why I say fuck it, and smack you in public\nI'm rugged!\n\nYeah, you know me well\nThe Gods said that they owe me hell\nI'm The Outlaw Josey Wales\nMake a nigga feel spiritual like holy tales\nFrom the bible, roll Exodus and then inhale\nNo one knows you, so if I kill you who'd I tell?\nHalf-hipster, whiney nigga that's a fuckin' fail\nLife without purpose, that's a fucking jail\nLost Cauze, when I spit it's fucking hell\n\nMaster a dance of lesbians\nSatanic majesty's equestrian\nOn a black steed stampeding pedestrians\n'Do what thou willt' shall be the whole of the law\nI get my dick sucked by a nun with the soul of a whore\nSuperstitious like a gypsy casting a death-spell\nExhale chem-trails\nStrangle you with your own entrails\n14th day of July innocence was averted\nIll Bill, born on the same day Billy The Kid was murdered\n\nIt's kill or be killed\nSo watch out for the villain - he's ill\nI'm slinging rap, swinging bats like I'm in little league still\nSniffing cocaine off a coin with Kennedy's grill\nCough from a joint while I'm crushing my enemies will\nI'm a homicidal Hercules, doggie, I'm an urban myth\nI swerve the whip, get my dick sucked while on my work release\nI give these rappers bad advice and a nervous twitch\nPenetrate and innovate, a renegade, I murder shit\n\nI'm a real wolf\nWith the Underworld flick\n\nI ain't racist just cause I split your head to the white meat\nThe missing link Yeti-Sasquatch, yeah I might be\nThis shit's real - distribute guns in the kids meal\nOpen the box, hold the Glock, bust a shot through the windshield\nThe manifestation of evil stay alive and breathing\nI'm Satan's fitness trainer, exercising demons\nRespect the shooter, I'll find the bastard\nHell, my little pistol is a fire hazard\n\nMy dick stays hard in graveyards, you pray hard\nAs I make love to Adolf Hitler's carcass\nCall me a nigger as I lick his heartless chest\nI guess these skinhead Nazis wanna get retarded\nWhy? as I'm fucking your leader all in his ass\nSpeak to him in Hebrew, fuck the Führer until his wrecked, dead again\nTell the Aryans I'm burring my head rag in his belly\nAnd it's scary cause I licking his mustache\n\nSon of a killer, Mr. fucking grimey\nSAS 22nd regiment limey\nBorn in a bar with my eyes wide open\nInspired by debacles since I came out the fallopian\nWe don't fuck around, got permits to carry\nEverybody walks around like Dirty fucking Harry\nDon't play my town, cause we will fucking bury you\nCarry you to a farm cut off your arms, chewed up by animals\n\nOn your mark, get set, ready to go\nGreen light, checkered flag, time to get that dough\nAnd ayo, in the underworld I'm half-wolf and half-lycan\nSwing the Excalibur, barbaric viking\n\nVicodin, marijuana, cocaine, the Grateful Dead\nAverage rapper kidnapping\nBe sure to make your bed\nWhen they battle me fatality take your head\nAnd write a rhyme with your blood\nThe page's painted red\n\nI'm the king of Castle Greyskull\nMy grey matter's powerful as Grey Hulk\nI'm Zartan, I'm Tarzan before he went to Greystroke\nMy brain's broke, slang dope\nAnd when I speak, my slang's dope\nYou're soft as fuck - your whole album is a gay joke\nRap's lethal, spit a sixteen at you\nWe'll paint the ceiling with your brains\nLike the Sistine Chapel\nI'm the cardinal of carnage, the poisonous priest\nDon't bother praying to your God\nThere's no avoiding this beast\n\nYou ain't about that life\nYou a bastard that won't attack\nI'm the type to grab a knife\nAnd I'm stabbing you with it backwards\nI'm backslapping wack ass non-rappers\nSnatch the breath out of your faster than asthma without a gas mask\nI lace hash, a heinous figure\nSlash-murderer, I'm burning these legacy killers\nPutting mo' metal in niggas than robotic mechanisms\nKill his woman and brag about it in prison\n\nRambo-knife, show you what bloody is\nYou call it a dead cop, I call it a bloody pig\nYou think your hands nice money? You's a funny kid\nYou next to get molly-whopped like your buddy did\nThe Ruger Blackhawk, stick it in the dunny rib\nThrow him in the fucking bathroom like Sunny did\nThe biggest show in your career; like a hundred kids\nThe AR-15 blew off like a hundred wigs\n\nGrim reaper to Ariel Castro, Adam Lanza, James Holmes\nFlame on, no it ain't wrong when I'mma have them plans for cancer\nThen land ya in a hands up tense panthers\nDamned with antlers to ram ya man pampers\nScrams the answer, No evil understands ya\nGrandeur and like you were three times the word lambda\nI'll be the damper on a clan's fam camper\nNecromancer drinking vodka and Fanta with Santa","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 'Reel Wolf: The Underworld (Goon MuSick Remix) [feat. Tech N9ne, Vinnie Paz, Ill Bill, Slaine, Celph Titled, King Gordy, Sid Wilson, PMD, Sean Strange, Apathy, Swifty McVay, Reef The Lost Cauze & Bizarre]'\n  artist: Snowgoons\n  album: Black Snow 2\n  duration_ms: 331024\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Reel Wolf, underground shit\n  I guess I'm up first, right?\n  I'mma rap first?\n  Alright, let me hit this blunt right quick\n\n  I'm the sickest motherfucker on this earth\n  That'll fuck a transvestite, dog, or blue Smurf\n  Bizarre smack a bitch quick\n  Then give her ass and lick while she take a shit\n  Fuck your period, fuck your rag\n  Take it in your ass, just like a fag\n  All my fans is crazy, they love it\n  That's why I say fuck it, and smack you in public\n  I'm rugged!\n\n  Yeah, you know me well\n  The Gods said that they owe me hell\n  I'm The Outlaw Josey Wales\n  Make a nigga feel spiritual like holy tales\n  From the bible, roll Exodus and then inhale\n  No one knows you, so if I kill you who'd I tell?\n  Half-hipster, whiney nigga that's a fuckin' fail\n  Life without purpose, that's a fucking jail\n  Lost Cauze, when I spit it's fucking hell\n\n  Master a dance of lesbians\n  Satanic majesty's equestrian\n  On a black steed stampeding pedestrians\n  'Do what thou willt' shall be the whole of the law\n  I get my dick sucked by a nun with the soul of a whore\n  Superstitious like a gypsy casting a death-spell\n  Exhale chem-trails\n  Strangle you with your own entrails\n  14th day of July innocence was averted\n  Ill Bill, born on the same day Billy The Kid was murdered\n\n  It's kill or be killed\n  So watch out for the villain - he's ill\n  I'm slinging rap, swinging bats like I'm in little league still\n  Sniffing cocaine off a coin with Kennedy's grill\n  Cough from a joint while I'm crushing my enemies will\n  I'm a homicidal Hercules, doggie, I'm an urban myth\n  I swerve the whip, get my dick sucked while on my work release\n  I give these rappers bad advice and a nervous twitch\n  Penetrate and innovate, a renegade, I murder shit\n\n  I'm a real wolf\n  With the Underworld flick\n\n  I ain't racist just cause I split your head to the white meat\n  The missing link Yeti-Sasquatch, yeah I might be\n  This shit's real - distribute guns in the kids meal\n  Open the box, hold the Glock, bust a shot through the windshield\n  The manifestation of evil stay alive and breathing\n  I'm Satan's fitness trainer, exercising demons\n  Respect the shooter, I'll find the bastard\n  Hell, my little pistol is a fire hazard\n\n  My dick stays hard in graveyards, you pray hard\n  As I make love to Adolf Hitler's carcass\n  Call me a nigger as I lick his heartless chest\n  I guess these skinhead Nazis wanna get retarded\n  Why? as I'm fucking your leader all in his ass\n  Speak to him in Hebrew, fuck the Führer until his wrecked, dead again\n  Tell the Aryans I'm burring my head rag in his belly\n  And it's scary cause I licking his mustache\n\n  Son of a killer, Mr. fucking grimey\n  SAS 22nd regiment limey\n  Born in a bar with my eyes wide open\n  Inspired by debacles since I came out the fallopian\n  We don't fuck around, got permits to carry\n  Everybody walks around like Dirty fucking Harry\n  Don't play my town, cause we will fucking bury you\n  Carry you to a farm cut off your arms, chewed up by animals\n\n  On your mark, get set, ready to go\n  Green light, checkered flag, time to get that dough\n  And ayo, in the underworld I'm half-wolf and half-lycan\n  Swing the Excalibur, barbaric viking\n\n  Vicodin, marijuana, cocaine, the Grateful Dead\n  Average rapper kidnapping\n  Be sure to make your bed\n  When they battle me fatality take your head\n  And write a rhyme with your blood\n  The page's painted red\n\n  I'm the king of Castle Greyskull\n  My grey matter's powerful as Grey Hulk\n  I'm Zartan, I'm Tarzan before he went to Greystroke\n  My brain's broke, slang dope\n  And when I speak, my slang's dope\n  You're soft as fuck - your whole album is a gay joke\n  Rap's lethal, spit a sixteen at you\n  We'll paint the ceiling with your brains\n  Like the Sistine Chapel\n  I'm the cardinal of carnage, the poisonous priest\n  Don't bother praying to your God\n  There's no avoiding this beast\n\n  You ain't about that life\n  You a bastard that won't attack\n  I'm the type to grab a knife\n  And I'm stabbing you with it backwards\n  I'm backslapping wack ass non-rappers\n  Snatch the breath out of your faster than asthma without a gas mask\n  I lace hash, a heinous figure\n  Slash-murderer, I'm burning these legacy killers\n  Putting mo' metal in niggas than robotic mechanisms\n  Kill his woman and brag about it in prison\n\n  Rambo-knife, show you what bloody is\n  You call it a dead cop, I call it a bloody pig\n  You think your hands nice money? You's a funny kid\n  You next to get molly-whopped like your buddy did\n  The Ruger Blackhawk, stick it in the dunny rib\n  Throw him in the fucking bathroom like Sunny did\n  The biggest show in your career; like a hundred kids\n  The AR-15 blew off like a hundred wigs\n\n  Grim reaper to Ariel Castro, Adam Lanza, James Holmes\n  Flame on, no it ain't wrong when I'mma have them plans for cancer\n  Then land ya in a hands up tense panthers\n  Damned with antlers to ram ya man pampers\n  Scrams the answer, No evil understands ya\n  Grandeur and like you were three times the word lambda\n  I'll be the damper on a clan's fam camper\n  Necromancer drinking vodka and Fanta with Santa\n"}]