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• Artiste: Esham
• Titre: Everyone
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[Talking] Killas Everyone's a killa now-a day Killas Let me tell you about some killa shit Yo, everyone's a killa The first time killas made an attempt on my life It was all about some money, it was funny So I laughed, blood bathed it off That bastard's soft Grab my pistol, I'm shootin' missiles Here's how you can be a super rap star and people try to kill you too It's funny like that when you rap about death The shit really follows you like every other breath Watch ya step, a thousand black crows fly through the sky I hear voices in my head, everyone must die Why? I dunno, shot another rapper wit' the .44 What the fuck fo'? Deep in my psychosis lives this ferocious monster That just wants to crush, grab guns, squeeze triggas, bullets bust Still can't get enough, what a rush Blood stains soak the plush Carpet, oh shit Brain matter all over the room scattered Killas don't talk but stalk the streets I'm a complete cannibal, cookin' ya dead meat The Seventh Sign, walk da flatline Forever through time, eternally out my mind While you keep tryin' to save souls from dyin' And Hell is still hot and muthafuckas still fryin' And I ain't lyin' about abortion 'Cuz you can 'KKKill the Fetus' and still hear ya baby cryin' [Chorus] Everyone...must...die (Everyone must die) [x8] Everyone must die, I have no excuses for mental abuses My uzi is useless without the clip in it Deep inside the darkness I slowly slip in it Murder by the minute, true confessions of a Smith and Wesson Livin' in Detroit all my life caused me to 'Mental Stress' and 'Panic Attack' and manic depression Blastin' any assassin, askin' no questions Murder for hire, my guns won't retire, you'll forever feel the fire Your desire to die collides with my obsession to just let slugs fly Why must I live like this? Blood stains on the floor from my slit wrists Suicidalist, mental poisionest, the flow grows slow into a dark Lotus 'Dead Flowerz' in the 'Midnight Hour' All people kill for the powder of power Whichever comes first before the guns burst Life indepentent or the back of a hearse What's worse than a wicked rhyme I disperse? Shells from a gun as I yell and curse Shells from a gun as I yell and curse The shells from a gun as I yell and curse [Chorus]