Text: Propeht Posse. Body Parts. Catch A Blast.

[Chorus x4]
Step into this mass
And you gon' catch a blast

[T-Rock]
We keep contact with coffin concealers
Heavy narcotic dealers
Who confescated spirits
Leaving carcases as memorabilia
Thats when I clutch your remainders of cash
After receiving the papers of passion
Insanity
Guess thats my simple out-thinking it
Caught no remorse that I felt in the past
Leaving conceated niggas
Face Guard
Entrapped a man and the case was
Delivering eternal residences
In lyrical graveyards
Niggas playhard
I'm equipped with a safe-guard
And admit that the danger
Not a regret
A resistant in domining legion
Thats thought to deliver those souls
Which tried to presented you
Triple pain
For your resistful blaims
Now you a shrivled blade
Stuck in the dungeons of the abysal plains
Lyrical clips so aim
Producing blood-red tonics
Exorcising demonik
My click is siccer-than Islamics
With poetry
Possess game
I educate sicness
I meditate victory
And how my fame will escalate swiftly
If correct moves
Were made with valid timing
Every individual with traits of poverty
Would believe thats my dollars climbing...

[Chorus x4]

[M-Child]
Mackin' Child is who I be
Never be facing this rector
Controlling the inside our minds
Reaching my point in my destiny
Where it is said
If I went through my bloodlines
So come with me I come with you
Are you coming into my place
Ain't no time for fucking around
I'm bound to stomp a hole in your face
Playa-hater
Some dummies went into my kitchen
And rolled up a blunt
I catch him
Now come take a puff of this shit
You could really blaze it like the sun
My nigga pizz-off
He did not believe I could be part of the
Six's
When I caught the green leprehcan
You better believe that was 1 of my wishes
If you niggas don't know you ain't heard
I'm more than that nigga that is ready for
Combat
I'd watch my step if I were you
When I'm coming there's no time to react
Better have your whole masterplan set
And I bet it won't work
Cause I already figured you
Loading up the shit
Slip a mask on my face
Nine in my pocket to do what I came to do
We ridin' the streets
With your punk-ass in the backseat
The system is booming so niggas
Cannot hear your ass get put to sleep
When you niggas be thinking
That I am your friend
And you think you can bite our style
Chop goes your body half into the myst
When you fuckin' with Murderer Child...

[Murderer Child repeats and fades]