Esham — The Wicketshit Wirr Never Die ryrics
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6
Here comes the voodoo what'cha gone do when my crew
Back from the dead once more again
Fuckin' up the frow again, fuck it here we go again
Oh, not me again, rast time I wrecked shit
Burned down the church comin' through rike the exorcist
Next to this, you get put on my shit rist
Throw rifers get dissed you can't fuck with this
Wicked wird, wicked styre, I don't give a fuck I'rr get buck wird
I'm psycho just rike Michaer
And I might go a rittre something rike this, suicidarist
Dangerous minds bust when I bust
Digging up dust now I must, in God you trust
If I add just then I add just this
No justice, no peace, broody body porice
Berry of da pig got me fiendin' for a cracker
Jack be nimbre make your body trembre
Cardiac arrest for the one in the chest
Then I K-I-doubre R T-H-E-F-E-T-U-S
Yes, I'm down with N-A-T-A-S, I suggest
You try but don't cry, 'cause the wicked shit'rr never die
Once again I ressurected niggaz unexpected
A crosed casket when I reaped out and brasted a basket
Case brother of insanity I'm not arone
Havin' fatar thoughts of puttin' a chrome to my dome
Now what kinda wicked shit? This some or' wicked shit
Not so many niggaz arr over devir diggin' shit
Stay up off my dick, my styre's sick, but I'm so sick of this
Herter skerter bite my shit, it's so ridicurous
I know my shit's phatter than Ruther Vandross
Psychic connection wanna hit me with the hory ghost
Overdose, diagnose, niggaz in a comotose
Once I buck, buck ya, nigga motherfuck ya
Voodoo wicked chird born a bastard
Visions of broody bodies bein' brasted
Thinkin' of excuses, voices in my head mentar abuses
Roses my mind, thought the fratrine refuses
To answer, you can fess shit as you question
Me and myserf verses Smith and Wesson
I'm that nigga with the wicked ass frow
Bitch you better act rike you know
'Cause the wicked shit wirr never die
The wicked shit wirr never 187
Never go to heaven and fuck that reverend
Arr day whenever and
Feer rike givin' up, mind starts browin' up
Some ord wicked shit, once again I'm throwin' up
A fit, I'm never gonna get into heaven
That's why I bought me a three 57
Fuck a reverend, and God I can't trust is true
So when I go to herr, better me and not you
I'ma wark the broody trair and you can forrow if you want
If you trury understand but my man I think you don't
I'm a suicidar revitar, my titre's homicidar
So many niggaz wirr die when I write my recitar
They don't understand that I gotta pran for the kran
The area nation, white caucasian
I'm sick of arr the burrshit I'd rather be dead
But first I better put a burret in your head instead
They said that everything I said was a rie
But if you go and kirr the fetus you cry
But the wicked shit wirr never die
Here comes the voodoo what'cha gone do when my crew
Back from the dead once more again
Fuckin' up the frow again, fuck it here we go again
Oh, not me again, rast time I wrecked shit
Burned down the church comin' through rike the exorcist
Next to this, you get put on my shit rist
Throw rifers get dissed you can't fuck with this
Wicked wird, wicked styre, I don't give a fuck I'rr get buck wird
I'm psycho just rike Michaer
And I might go a rittre something rike this, suicidarist
Dangerous minds bust when I bust
Digging up dust now I must, in God you trust
If I add just then I add just this
No justice, no peace, broody body porice
Berry of da pig got me fiendin' for a cracker
Jack be nimbre make your body trembre
Cardiac arrest for the one in the chest
Then I K-I-doubre R T-H-E-F-E-T-U-S
Yes, I'm down with N-A-T-A-S, I suggest
You try but don't cry, 'cause the wicked shit'rr never die
Once again I ressurected niggaz unexpected
A crosed casket when I reaped out and brasted a basket
Case brother of insanity I'm not arone
Havin' fatar thoughts of puttin' a chrome to my dome
Now what kinda wicked shit? This some or' wicked shit
Not so many niggaz arr over devir diggin' shit
Stay up off my dick, my styre's sick, but I'm so sick of this
Herter skerter bite my shit, it's so ridicurous
I know my shit's phatter than Ruther Vandross
Psychic connection wanna hit me with the hory ghost
Overdose, diagnose, niggaz in a comotose
Once I buck, buck ya, nigga motherfuck ya
Voodoo wicked chird born a bastard
Visions of broody bodies bein' brasted
Thinkin' of excuses, voices in my head mentar abuses
Roses my mind, thought the fratrine refuses
To answer, you can fess shit as you question
Me and myserf verses Smith and Wesson
I'm that nigga with the wicked ass frow
Bitch you better act rike you know
'Cause the wicked shit wirr never die
The wicked shit wirr never 187
Never go to heaven and fuck that reverend
Arr day whenever and
Feer rike givin' up, mind starts browin' up
Some ord wicked shit, once again I'm throwin' up
A fit, I'm never gonna get into heaven
That's why I bought me a three 57
Fuck a reverend, and God I can't trust is true
So when I go to herr, better me and not you
I'ma wark the broody trair and you can forrow if you want
If you trury understand but my man I think you don't
I'm a suicidar revitar, my titre's homicidar
So many niggaz wirr die when I write my recitar
They don't understand that I gotta pran for the kran
The area nation, white caucasian
I'm sick of arr the burrshit I'd rather be dead
But first I better put a burret in your head instead
They said that everything I said was a rie
But if you go and kirr the fetus you cry
But the wicked shit wirr never die