Chords for Mr. Hyde - Knife In Your Spine (Ft. Necro)

_ Ladies and gentlemen, _ boys and girls, _ dying times here. _ _
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[F] I'm not a fan of hesitation, [Eb] pulling it out and not using it, a disaster waiting for [Fm] craftination.
Rocking black [Bb] Reeboks, chasing you for three blocks, facing your dead gun, smack you and pop you with three shots.
And back [Db] to you waiting mysteriously, [Eb] seriously, destroy you deliriously like a [F] conspiracy theory.
The spirits are near me, don't [Bb] irritate me, the pirates are violent, let loose the virus, the science that created me.
The [Bb] ambassador of massacre, mass [Eb] murder and slurs, trafficking [Bbm] white slaves in the world, this [F] rocket occurred.
Shotguns are pump action, [Bbm] dumb fractions of metal trapped, no actual caps, peeled in your physical capsule.
My lyrics [Gb] factually, naturally, more rugged than your average savage if you average it [Fm] mathematically.
Numerically sick and your [Bbm] wrist will pick, so count down to the blitz, evil like pixel flick, sick, sick, sick.
Death comes in the worst way, _ _ _ [Ebm] _ death comes in the worst [Bbm] way, through satanic wordplay, hit the nape of your spine.
Death comes in the worst way, _ you [Bb] can't beat it, join it.
Death comes in the worst [Bbm] way, through satanic wordplay, hit the nape of your spine.
I got the mind of a [F] poacher with the [Gb] pride of a soldier, choose a lion or [Bbm] cobra, I reply when I'm [Fm] older.
See maturity counts, I'm selling [Bbm] gore by the ounce, I'm pretty sure the amount's a little more than a douse.
You're soaked with [Ebm] sickness, provoke [Gb] my instinct, you'll be cut to [Ebm] giblets, your throat's a [Fm] wristlet.
Dab your jugular, it hurts, dab your [Bb] skull until it squirts, your blood will burst and add another color to your shirt.
Turn your feet to chop [C] meat, you'll be bludgeoned and vexed, leave your teeth on the [Bbm] concrete and your skull on a stick.
All delusions of grandeur get excluded from stanzas, including the panther, the ensuing of cancer.
You'll get exquisite [C] visions by blades that make incisions, a [Bbm] vision of you bitches to bits with rigid [F] scissors.
Slicing through you fucks will leave a [Bbm] scuff on my sword, guts will slide across the floor like a fucking shuffleboard.
My glock is shot with force, leaving you a rotten corpse, a hundred molotovs will cause a jungle holocaust.
[Fm] Don't fear the reaver, cause I'm [Bb] just a fact of life, what you should fear is once you're dead I'll probably attack your wife.
I give your ghost something to watch, putting [Eb] roaches in her crotch, chop a package up the parts and put the postage on the [Fm] box.
When the chrome spit your dome slit, the [Bbm] kiss of death is blown bitch, leave you in the cold stiff, stinking like the homeless.
Death comes in the worst way, death _ _ _ [Bb] comes in the worst [Bbm] way, through satanic wordplay, hit the knife in your spine.
Death comes in the worst way, _ [Ebm] you can't beat it, [Bb] join it.
Death comes in the worst [Bbm] way, through satanic wordplay, hit the knife in your spine. _ _
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