[Verse 1]

I spit on behalf of my death cult made of millions of morbid angels
Standing in a burning church in Norway lost in hatred
Of course Satan smiles through the face of a child
Whose born with the number of the Devil scraped into his scalp
We don’t like none of y’all at all
My [bad word] your mother in the mouth type of dawgs might write this song
Triple X [bad word] call me and invite me home
 [bad word] up on me on the street in then invite me dome
I spit the [bad word] for the youth movement, it’s goon music
Engineered to make you bang your [bad word] head to it
Learn ships, live fast lives and spit flames then burn [bad word] with crackpipes like Rick James
Ill Bill, I’m from Brooklyn where the stars are born
I make [bad word] music plus I be involved in [bad word] 
I be the chosen like Robby Benson [bad word] 
Holding a toaster like Bronson in Death Wish

 [bad word] x 2]

Black metal, I [bad word] back react thorough
In la botanica con el santero
Black mask, white robe, shrouded in peril
Trapped me in the war between God and the Devil

[Verse 2: Sick Jacken]

I know a babalawo who cuts chicken heads
I [bad word] chicken heads man that Santeria [bad word] is [bad word] wild
I’m feeling like my [bad word] out
I’m the middle of the block guns drawn when they gun it down
I break speed limits on the highway to [bad word] 
They got the Devil chasing me trying to give me life without bail
I drink spirits and smoke form for medicine
And inhale elements of sickle cell
You can catch me in the hood like VD
That Sixth Side Street [bad word] homes and we ain’t deal with the PD
The most hated on the block with no greatest
Crash through the storm and attack the storm raiders
I shoot the [bad word] with Shaman, my spirit is still starving
Imagine all the [bad word] that my soul famine is causing
Knife-carving nine on the psychos at night swarming
I fight to be righteous but the murder is more calm

 [bad word] x 2]

[Verse 3: Q-Unique]

I been forced to fulfill a dark and hateful agarro
And was born the son of a Satan santero
Burn black candles for a black Sabbath
After the fact the priest converted her to a crack addict
It’s flat madness with black gats and black magic
Sit and watch the death of faces and laugh at it
With two white pale goth [bad word] lost in an orgy
And you too could subscribe for the cost of a forty
I got the blood of the faceless pagans on me
sacred place praying to raise a Haitians army
The Babalawo wolf from Brooklyn in all white
White [bad word]  white Nikes, moving that pure white all night
Make a [bad word] scream chango and [bad word] their brains out
Your ice [bad word] won’t save you, tuck your chains now
Between Heaven and [bad word]  pa’ arriba y pa’ abajo
Knowing the Devil itself itself vamos pa’l carajo

 [bad word] x 2]