Lyrics Guck - Grim Salvo
(Clonic
convulsions
and
groaning)
(He
yells
aloud)
(Convulses
arms
and
legs)
(Grimaces,
bites
his
tongue)
(Gives
the
impression
of
someone
who
is
completely
out
of
his
mind)
Put
a
fucking
hole
in
the
ground
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
Put
'em
all
six
feet
down
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
Dig
'em
deep
so
they
don't
make
a
sound
I
go
dumb,
I
get
guck
I
don't
even
give
a
fuck
I
come
up
Piss
on
your
bitch
Suck
a
toe,
then
we
switch
I'm
so
numb
I
don't
cum
I
don't
give
a
single
fuck
When
I
spit,
I
make
it
stick
When
I'm
coming
up,
you
better
have
my
money
quick
Dig
'em
deep
so
they
do
not
make
a
sound
Looking
in
the
window
I've
been
watching
you
sleep
(woop
woop)
Gonna
wreck
to
your
death
Blood
stain
don't
come
off
of
me
(Better
not
make
a
peep)
I've
been
walking
to
you
acting
like
you're
pleasant
Hold
up
11,
never
got
a
wrecking
Everyone
hold
up
a
second
I
know
your
disease
and
you
gotta
confess
it,
oh
You
never
know
Motherfucker
thought
he
could
run
up
and
try
to
blow
Cold
day,
cold
play
So
I
made
that
red
snow
Chopped
up
his
body
to
go
Now
you
know
my
flow
so
sick
like
Make-A-Wish
kids
I'm
on
that
drip
(brrr)
Never
tell
what
I'm
gonna
do
YP
Flesh
and
the
mob
and
we're
coming
through
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
Put
'em
all
six
feet
down
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
Dig
'em
deep
so
they
don't
make
a
sound
I
go
dumb,
I
get
guck
I
don't
even
give
a
fuck
I
come
up
Piss
on
your
bitch
Suck
a
toe,
then
we
switch
I'm
so
numb
I
don't
cum
I
don't
give
a
single
fuck
When
I
spit,
I
make
it
stick
When
I'm
coming
up,
you
better
have
my
money
quick
Whether
or
not
you
believe
it
Looking
at
one
of
humanity's
greatest
achievements
Music
genius
in
my
genus
Pity
the
fool
that
cannot
fucking
see
this
Iced
like
T
Hot
like
skeet
I'm
a
lyrical
catastrophe
My
mastery
Will
have
you
plastered
across
the
back
of
a
backboard
and
put
you
in
a
cast
for
free
I'm
on
that
fuck
society
Split
the
game
-type
shit
Displays
I
pitch
rock
lane
-type
switch
You
chasin'
that
lame-type
bitch
I'm
on
that
fuck
society
Split
the
game
-type
shit
(Displays
I
pitch
rock
lane
-type
switch)
Wait,
would
everyone
hold
up
a
second
I
know
your
disease
and
you
gotta
confess
it
(You
chasin'
that
lame-type
bitch)
Bow!
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
(Gives
the
impression
of
someone
who
is
completely
out
of
his
mind)
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
(Gives
the
impression
of
someone
who
is
completely
out
of
his
mind)
Ay
Dig
it
up,
dig
it
up,
dig
it
up
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