75 Stings Lyrics – Daniel Monroe
Singer: Daniel Monroe
Title: 75 Stings
Let’s have a good clean fight
And may be the better man won
Alright m#th*rf#ck*r
This is my way of a clean fight, b#tch
That freestyle joint ain’t nothing, that was bait
This is the real deal
So get ready of what I’m about to do
This is a coyote’s game of a rabbit hunt
You done f#cked up when you woke The Yellow Jacket up
Let me explain how I imagine the fun
Like making you drink a gallon of faggot blood
To kill a man, I have to tag him a hundred stings
If it don’t work, I’ll bring out the hundred round drum magazines
A 50 Cent mindset of blastin’ and robbin’
Instead of shooting gats, I’m shooting galactic comets
Your Juggalo horrorcore theme don’t mean sh#t to me
Seriously, b#tches keep boasting higher than gypsies
Try to diss me now? How you sound?
Whoever signed you must be running a circus ’cause you’re a clown
I’m a blasphemous masochist
With the alphabet and mathematics of a rap battling Spartan
Metaphors that contain maximum carnage
And flavor full of tarantula garnish that’s ready to tarnish
You look like one of those crack addicts that beg for food scraps
And looking through the garbage
Slow backlash ’til the scars are so abstract
I’ll make you twist your neck ’til it runs out of cartilage
Rip your dick off with a ratchet wrench
Take LSD and Molly to have a heavenly acid trip
As I stab you in the abdomen with a javelin
Adrenaline’s travelin’ through like a telephone when it’s channelin’
Once you provoke ‘Roe, I shove the Pear of Anguish down your throat
And open it, while you’re still chokin’ it
Open and closing it ’til I hear your motherf#ckin’ spinal cord broken
I inject you with some putrid poisonous liquidous gel
That has a hideous smell full of Iridium cells
No matter how hard his devilish idioms sell
I don’t give a f#ck what kind of sh#t this idiot tells
What should I peel first, your tattoos or your piercings?
Or a good old latitude pull from your earrings?
As you suffer from fatigue from eating Burger King
My brain takes more sharp turns than the Nürburgring
My second mixtape, Uncommon Wasp
In Latin, it’s called Vespula Raris
Dropping uncommon thoughts like atomic bombs
‘Til I reside in a pool in Paris
Go and have a seat, put this thinking cap on if you like
Let me show you different ways to use an old torture device
Each component to whatever body parts I tied
Every operating oscillator plans out your demise
You never murdered anybody, don’t be a lying b#tch
Paralyze your arms and legs with the Tien Bridge
Spiral the wires around your whole spine, lemme try it
Deep fry your body structure with the Tri-Tet
During a phase shift, allow me to pick your brain harshly
Implant a chip inside and make it RC
I’m keeping you alive, you still got a heartbeat
I got your arteries and veins connecting to the Hartley
Leave your scalp open to rot and decay in time
Every pulse passing through is fuel for the Delay Line
Crispy, crunchy tissue from the microwaves of Gunn
Rappers can be psychos if they’re not wasting the fun
I’m sorry for cheating, because I don’t know what kind of drugs these bars are on
I couldn’t believe what I’m writing, such as popping one of your balls and be like Armstrong
I’m taking measures of any resistance with the Dynatron
It’s only a matter of time before your eyesight’s gone
Are you getting hot enough from the blazing shocks?
Or are you suffering from a fever that it’s cold as shit?
I’m recording your last moments and put it in analog
Got your temperature worked out by using the Colpitts
You’re not the only one who likes trouble like Tom Sawyer
I even use the device to relax with the Royer
I have the voltage controlled when it overloads in your nose
Amp it to 15K to melt the flesh down to your bones
Ears bleeding from the capacitors of Pierce
While you cry, your cheeks will sizzle from the Clapp to your tears
Strap your girl down with the Rings and Crystals on the buckles
Connect it to you and call it Cross-Coupled
Fully ionized nuclei that destroys electrons
If you have no molecules, then you’re just gone
Put him in the ICU, hook him up to some IV’s
They have to identify him as a ripoff of ICP
Calm his #ss down with benzodiazepine
But that will make it worse after being stung by the H-I-V-E
My name isn’t just for show, it ain’t corny or comical
Even Nos knows that ‘Roe is phenomenal
This is three quarters of your life, get him to a hospital
Talking about ‘I’m monotone’
Name a list of rappers more monotone than me
f#ck you talking about?
And he records like he’s talking through a drive-through speaker, the f#ck?
But when we say it’s professional, don’t take it personal
Alright, man? This is Hip-Hop, this is for fun, peace
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Lyrics Daniel Monroe – 75 Stings
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