[Intro]
Where exactly are we?
You are 1,758 feet underground
[Verse 1: Madd Maxxx]
Tearin' off faces like pages out of composition notebooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
I walk up in the spot, they givin' gross looks
Fuck is you gawkin' at? All you bitches should know my crew is pro-jux
So, we'll take what we think we deserve and a bit more
On the track, I'm a cross between Hiram Abiff and a Sith Lord
So fuckin' high I forgot to pull my ripcord
Always touchin' pussies where they more sensitive, that's what the clit's for
Facin' the bad bitch flat, she says I need to spit more
The audacity of this whore! Guess I'll just have to let my demons out
Now what the fuck are you screamin' 'bout all evening?
Just back and forth goin' from the bathroom to the Dick's store
Shorty knows I got unlimited credit
Based predator, yeah, it might take me a while but I'll get it
Ain't ever gotta say it twice, I'll always stand on what I said if I said it
Fuck what I look like pretending, I'll dead it
If it's smoke then it'll smolder 'til the fire is out
If we warrin' it ain't nothin' to take a ride to your house
Call 'em Lena The Plug when I put this black Nine in his mouth
These bitches ain't even livin' lives that's worth rhymin' about
So why you cloggin' up the flyer? Get the fuck off of the stage
For wack rappers I've got a bloodlust I will never assuage
Already married to the game, fuck ever gettin' engaged
They say they 'bout it but inside these dudes are bitches, Elliot Page
[Chorus: Madd Maxxx]
Killin-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
Killin shit with no-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
Killin-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
Killin shit with no-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
[Verse 2: J Reno]
A bunch of rappers who make fans out of fans who hate rapping
Don't know shit about the culture and you got the skill to match
For me it's no gimmick, no costume, no mask and
I'll die behind these bars like Benjamin Atkins
Fuck is you talkin' 'bout? You could have all of the fans possible
And at my worst with minimal effort I can body you
My pension worth more than these idiots' bank rappin'
Forty plus, broke, lookin' 'round like What happened?
Fuck streams, followers, and the stacks that you cappin'
'Cause when you log off that's when the hunger really have 'em
Throwin' a fuckin' tantrum in a one-bedroom apartment
With dirty sheets on the windows, stains on the carpet
I'm heartless when it come to the bars I put on a drum brake
As opposed to guaranteed, you chumps late on a pump-fake
It's hip-hop, we ain't got no love for hoes
Slap the fuckin' emo haircut right off of your dome
I flip beats for the low, reup, then flip more
Who gives a fuck what you think if I paid off a car note?
With a couple hard notes, boom baps, and guitar strokes
You fuckin' with me and Maxxx, homeboy, that's all jokes
You confused, think confused means you dope with a pen
You fuckin' with some real MCs who ain't go with the trends
And we can tell that dope shit gets all under your skin
Like you took a bad hit and see the bugs again (Dang!)
[Chorus: Madd Maxxx]
Killin-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
Killin shit with no-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
Killin-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
Killin shit with no-killin'-killin' shit with no hooks
The Anti-Cenobite 'cause I be killin' shit with no hooks
