Torture - The Grouch

Torture nigga…

Welcome to the torture chamber

Cutting niggaz dicks off

Ain’t no pussies around here, nigga

I’m getting crucified, in the public eye a nigga died

Come and meet the killa inside on a murder ride

I wanna pop piggity pop until they all fall

My style gets ugly like that muthafucka Biggie Smalls

I walk barefoot on a butcher knife

And fuck (no audio) if he ain’t representin (no audio)

The .45 slug thug killa, spill a nigga brains like Millers

Cause we be Superman cap peelas…

Aaaaahh!

I’m coming outta the woodworks

Nobody move nobody get hurt

I’m leaving bullet holes in T-shirts (pop pop)

The buddha lightin, masturbating while rhyme writin, wicket

Finger fucked the pussy of Jada Pinkett

I burn up obituaries

I fucked Halle Berry to death and dumped her body in the cemetary

The dick loaner, the big booty bitch boner of all types

Burnin you bitches with crack pipes…

Torture…

Burnin niggaz up

Tie yo ass up to a telephone pole

Like Jesus Christ, nigga

Jesus Christ

Fantasies is unreal, I’m burnin you pigs with black steel

And killin children for your Happy Meals

Like takin candy from a baby

I murdered my old lady with a 380

(Because the pussy drove him crazy!)

She never knew what was in store

Cause I’m the nigga that raped the bitch 2Pac went to jail for

I’m insane from asylum, the asylum drove me insane

Sniff cocaine to ease pain

I got one in the chamber, the torture chamber

I’m paranoid, so you best avoid

Any confrotation, I rub the barrel like masturbation

To nut all in yo face and

Look what you facin

A madman unmasked like jason

Gun smoke smellin, Reel Life yellin

I show my face of death

I got one bullet left in the glock

And I’m screamin 3, 2, POP!

Aaaaah… aaaahhhhhhh!