(feat. Esham)


ICP and Esham wicked rappers delight 2015

Feins of the wicked shit its time to get hot

Bump your fucking shit up for something wicked shit right

Detroit legendary demon lopatara

Staring you right back through your eyes in the mirror

Blowing out your brains spontaneous combustion

Lyrics like a barrel and cheering out busting

Fire breathing wicked shit melting microphones

Blowing speakers into flames setting fires to your home



How many times you gonna say I need help

Who gives a fuck if I murder myself

I'm thinking suicidal thoughts I shot a gay preacher

I didn't do my homework so I shot my teacher

I dropped out the next day fuck a g.e.d

Then I went and clowned the industry with ICP

Through up the 313 to let them know it was me

Esham is dope ho I'm the king of the D



I stole a fucking firetruck and drove through a Wendy's

All that happen to me was a bullet in the kidneys

I almost died then but look at me I ride again

Whats really happening reality is pretend

You can blow my fucking head off ill just grow another

My brain and my self we don't even know each other

Someone's in the darkness crawling out of my closet door

That's what the nines in the mattress for



Warlocks and witches come and learn from the master

The walls of my home feature body's in the plaster

The dead but sticking out like hon solo when he flows

With my favorite weapons hanging off there fingers and toes

Wicked pimping scary bitches living or dead

All with vampire fangs and they giving me head

Like cemetery girls back dance boogie woogie betty

Her nedens big and blew out like a plate of spaghetti



I'm out cold all my teeth gold

Plus I don't brush them

Quarterback sneaking plus if you rush 'em

Bust em down bust em up steady fucking 'em up

But wait why do I have all this blood on my hands

Blood on my clothes blood on my shoes

I'm on the 10 o clock news for steady

Murdering crews and there point of views

I'm like purple chronic mixed with ass and demonic

In her stomach full of jagermeister ready to vomit



Mirror mirror on the wall tell us who the wicked are

Shaggy E and Jay we in the game and getting ours

Hitting stars in there mouth and bumping off with red necklaces

Wicked reckless nobody expected

Bumping this wicked shit or are you brain dead

I can fly a mutha fucking egg on your head

Break in and tie your fucking feet up to your neck

Shoot you in the back once and kick you down the steps



I blow a crauder in the side of your head

Do the same to your missis while you sleeping in bed

Double murder robbery just another job to me

Rollin in a stolen Buick hookers slobbing me

Known though the farms lands as a duke of the wicked

Always shooting the bigots and booting the chickens

Asking me the wrong question also triggers my disease

They will find your body in Compton in and your head in Hallows, Queens.



The phone rong and on the other end it was the president

I cant talk right now I'm on the toilet taking a shit

I groped the phone I think my cover is blown I'm deep cover

Your wife ordered a pizza from me she got the meat lovers

I'm Johnny bravo the other black get at me ho

I make these hos happy tho 'cause I'm there pappy oh

Its to soon for you to be on my team

But give R Kelly a call I think like 'em 13



I once met a hooker and she did it for free

On the west first bus number 73

All the way in the back she was humping on me

Until I strangled the bitch and stuffed her under my seat

I got off on my stop without as much as a drop of blood

But then I remember I forgot to wear gloves

Now I'm chasing the bus my finger prints are on her neck

STOP! AND GIMME MY DEAD BITCH BACK!



Fucking dead bitches on a wegie board all night

Busting off shots in the club we all fight

Hanging muther fuckers my there neck off of street lites

With there legs cut off trying to read me rights

I wear my CD I'll stick it in your face

Half way sticken out but look it still plays

I stomp when I rap and I shake the whole block

Stick my dick in your ear so you can hear what I got



I was one of those monsters in the video thriller

Known to the world as the pop star killer

And on another part from the part I arose

I'm the crusty ass booger hanging out of your nose

I'm the stink on your toes I'm the weed to your rose

Not one of your friends but one of your foes

And spitting the wicked shit is the life I chose

Do a spin grab my nuts then b boy pose



Chain you up for some tic tacs bloody mess

We the board on your chest and take turns shooting the rest

I win everytime the beat is good with every rhyme

And off with your head if your getting mine

This is esham and the wicked clowns for the vote

We come flying out the dark with a triple moonsault

I through a snowball so hard it replaced your eye

It melted and left a fucking hole and it was dry