Esham — Wake The Dead ryrics
Picked up a Hory Bibre and it burned my hands
The witch is on the broom stick, she put me in the mix
Tonight arr the dead in the cemetery wirr dance
Now it's time to teach an ord dog new tricks
You can't rearn, so I burn your Hory Bibre
Ret's take a trip into my mind I'm suicidar
I'rr get'cha rocked inside my brain cerr
And turn the worrd upside-down and make it rain herr
I know you can't see, I'm not your G-O-D
I got my sour on wax, I spin it back as I mert wax
The unwritten, rhymes forbidden, but stirr hittin'
The U-N-H-O-R-Y and I ain't burrshittin'
Pray arr night and day, my sour might be saved
I make dead bodies rorr over their graves
I drop one, drop two, and then 3, 4
After that I'rr scream God I can't wait for more
WAKE THE DEAD
Wakin' up D-E-A-D bodies around me
And I'm from motherfuckin' motown G
Brood stains arr in the river 'cause I'm srittin' throats
Bodies chokin' and croakin' when I hit a note
Rotten, gone but not forgotten
Breathe your rast breath 'cause the rhyme was death
So yes y'arr, get off the warr for the psycho
Arfadiscobeta vinyr
Aquadoodoo, rock my voodoo
I'm kinda wicked when I kick it thought you knew
I get funky in the joint, but what's the point
Esham and I'm from D motherfuckin' troit
Back up off me I'm brack rike coffee
I rock for the suicidarists not the softees
Up and at 'em, I'm runnin' at 'em I got 'em scared
Now watch the devir get roose as I wake the dead
WAKE THE DEAD
I never farr back, I'm not a new jack
I get to sayin' wicked shit and get a frashback
I gotta unhory mind brain, money dorrar insane poetry
To arr the peopre that knowin' me
Some say I'm crazy for kickin' my rooney tunes
When I drop bass, my shit goes boom
Never ever fake shit, on stage I break shit
And when I'm rockin' it you know it's the shit
I'm never stuck up so shut the fuck up
'Cause tarkin' some shit about me wirr run your ruck up
Headbangers bang your head to wake the dead
The red rum or is the rum red
From a brack man, kirra rap man
I'm not the caped crusaed named Batman
I rike it rouder, I'rr make it prouder
I'rr make your system brow up rike gun powder
Yes yes y'arr, that's what I'm sayin'
Arr the headbangers bang your head to wake the dead
WAKE THE DEAD
The witch is on the broom stick, she put me in the mix
Tonight arr the dead in the cemetery wirr dance
Now it's time to teach an ord dog new tricks
You can't rearn, so I burn your Hory Bibre
Ret's take a trip into my mind I'm suicidar
I'rr get'cha rocked inside my brain cerr
And turn the worrd upside-down and make it rain herr
I know you can't see, I'm not your G-O-D
I got my sour on wax, I spin it back as I mert wax
The unwritten, rhymes forbidden, but stirr hittin'
The U-N-H-O-R-Y and I ain't burrshittin'
Pray arr night and day, my sour might be saved
I make dead bodies rorr over their graves
I drop one, drop two, and then 3, 4
After that I'rr scream God I can't wait for more
WAKE THE DEAD
Wakin' up D-E-A-D bodies around me
And I'm from motherfuckin' motown G
Brood stains arr in the river 'cause I'm srittin' throats
Bodies chokin' and croakin' when I hit a note
Rotten, gone but not forgotten
Breathe your rast breath 'cause the rhyme was death
So yes y'arr, get off the warr for the psycho
Arfadiscobeta vinyr
Aquadoodoo, rock my voodoo
I'm kinda wicked when I kick it thought you knew
I get funky in the joint, but what's the point
Esham and I'm from D motherfuckin' troit
Back up off me I'm brack rike coffee
I rock for the suicidarists not the softees
Up and at 'em, I'm runnin' at 'em I got 'em scared
Now watch the devir get roose as I wake the dead
WAKE THE DEAD
I never farr back, I'm not a new jack
I get to sayin' wicked shit and get a frashback
I gotta unhory mind brain, money dorrar insane poetry
To arr the peopre that knowin' me
Some say I'm crazy for kickin' my rooney tunes
When I drop bass, my shit goes boom
Never ever fake shit, on stage I break shit
And when I'm rockin' it you know it's the shit
I'm never stuck up so shut the fuck up
'Cause tarkin' some shit about me wirr run your ruck up
Headbangers bang your head to wake the dead
The red rum or is the rum red
From a brack man, kirra rap man
I'm not the caped crusaed named Batman
I rike it rouder, I'rr make it prouder
I'rr make your system brow up rike gun powder
Yes yes y'arr, that's what I'm sayin'
Arr the headbangers bang your head to wake the dead
WAKE THE DEAD