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Ese 40'Z
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Buried Alive
(Ese 40'z Verse One)
I hear the scratches in the walls and the whispers through the halls
callin out my name as my mind slowly falls
into a pit pitch black smoke filled I reminisce
roll a blunt and kick back as I enter the abyss
with a fist fulla shells and a roulette revolver
fuck a suicide I'm walking dead as I alter
my brain with these toxic, chemicals I profit
off of misery just another wicked project
the world is my casket cemetery plottin
inhale formaldehyde but my body keep on rotten
away to the dust decayin is a must
when you're preying on the crushed eternally I trust
in the fact that a death will come to us all
gaspin for breath as I come to recall
better days, but they say O twelve is the prophecy
end of the line for the times so I gotta be
fuckin with a landslide bury me in darkness
don't wanna be a cup of ashes for the heartless
or a free mason no illuminatin
if that was the case then you could bury me with satan
'Chorus'
Fuckin with the realest ill let's kill this
spittin wicked verses I'm rehearsin so you feel this
speakin on the dead and all the bodies in the graves
I think I hear the reaper callin out my fuckin name
fuckin with the truest on some new shit actin foolish
knowing I could do this hit em first and leave em clueless
because I'm livin lawless doing all this feeling flawless
my flows they be the rawest on the frontline stand the tallest
rush em with a blitz though feeling kinda skitzo
lookin out the window watching all the wind blow
trying to hit the tempo grab a pen or pencil
take it to the temple smoke up in my mental
(Ese 40'z Verse 2)
I'm in the Palace with Crystal six dollar bottle
shots of the vodka, lyrics fully auto
matic on the static when I'm creepin after hours
stories end up tragic leave you pushin up the flowers
in the land of the dead and deceased in a coffin
tombstone quotes while I float and I'm off in
a whole nother plane on an astral projection
obsession with death can't stop the infection
evil minded, fool you've been blinded
control is the method rich and powerful behind it
the elite fuck em........ I'm on the project porches
plottin on survival dodgin demonic forces
with torches is how they blow another bowl
and load it with the spirit of the blackest wicked soul
I keep strainin to hear for my search and my rescue
trapped underground with no air turn my flesh blue
sleep with the maggots let the worms go and feast
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as we practice deadly habits in the belly of the beast
(Chorus)
Fuckin with the realest ill let's kill this
spittin wicked verses I'm rehearsin so you feel this
speakin on the dead and all the bodies in the graves
I think I hear the reaper callin out my fuckin name
fuckin with the truest on some new shit actin foolish
knowing I could do this hit em first and leave em clueless
because I'm livin lawless doing all this feeling flawless
my flows they be the rawest on the frontline stand the tallest
rush em with a blitz though feeling kinda skitzo
lookin out the window watching all the wind blow
trying to hit the tempo grab a pen or pencil
take it to the temple smoke up in my mental
(Ese 40'z Verse 3)
Revelations...take a fully clip and dump it
eye for an eye as they sound the seventh trumpet
new world.....who be ordering the slaughter
genocide and homicide on your son and daughter
in this..... all the suffering is endless
struggling to send this message is horrendous
the shadiest the gloomiest in the darkest hour
one world one goal as they unite around the tower
surrounded by filth in a nation full of lies
just waiting for the kill so I'm not taken by surprise
because they infiltrate the media infiltrate the movies
infiltrate the music and they do it all so smoothly
open up our eyes and we rotten from our vision
rotten from our hearing, rotten from the way we living
fuck it...fake tears from the puppets
hanging by the strings of the things that they covet
tunneling the earth and preparing for the outcome
evil giving birth to a storm we cannot out run
the signs and the symbols are around us everyday
till the earth opens up and the dead come out to pay
(Chorus)
Fuckin with the realest ill let's kill this
spittin wicked verses I'm rehearsin so you feel this
speakin on the dead and all the bodies in the graves
I think I hear the reaper callin out my fuckin name
fuckin with the truest on some new shit actin foolish
knowing I could do this hit em first and leave em clueless
because I'm livin lawless doing all this feeling flawless
my flows they be the rawest on the frontline stand the tallest
rush em with a blitz though feeling kinda skitzo
lookin out the window watching all the wind blow
trying to hit the tempo grab a pen or pencil
take it to the temple smoke up in my mental
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