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Artist: 7L & Esoteric
Album:  DC2: Bars of Death
Song:   Graphic Violence
Typed by:

I take it to the streets, carjack 5-0
Pack toast like breakfast to go, let ya know
up front that in my trunk I got this big ass bag
When opened up, it resembles a weapons show
Wrap sheet in black heat for murder and death
The pistol on me that I rock, it ain't by Mitchell and Ness
I need medicinal tests cos I'm sick in the brain
Sick of the game, never sick of just inflictin' this pain
I'm thinkin' names on the reg, make em' pay for the third leg
Weeks later, wind up in the woods like a birds egg
I got the knife now, limbs I'm hackin' off
Plus I fire techs like laying to Macintosh
Slackin' off ain't allowed when you're on a mission
to annihilate entire nightclub crowds
Emptyin' every clip, I'm fightin' all types of shit
'I've been hit!', I really like this shit
Some muthafuckas should be payin' me to write their shit
Whilin' out bangin' out, Bicardi bites and shit
I won't settle, I deserve a medal
Vigilante rebel bout to take it to the next level

[Cop Talking Over Radio]
Units in area come in, code 11–352
Drug dealing suspect sighted in vicinity
On route to reported drug transaction
Investigate immediately

I load up the glock, I line cats in chalk
Slaughter pigs, pullin' triggers to blaze your whole block
Stick a plate in ya chest, give you, a grim death
Don't pretend to save, I grave the skin flesh
My retina's stained by this graphic violence
When I, close my eyes I see visions of tyrants
Lock and load, fuck buryin' heaters
I'm ruthless like a mother tryin' to bury a fetus
I'll wet you up like you stuck in the rain
Hit you in the jugular vain, I'm pluggin' ya brain
[Man talking] 'Ya punk ass wanna try somethin' with me?'
Yo what's that? Fuck that
Muthafuckas bustin' at me, I bust back
Sword play's my forté, you can't floor Shay
My style is negative like the image I portray
Change descriptions, letting my beard grow
A weirdo, drunk off a Jose Cuervoe
Tryin' to make it to the next bar without crackin' a whip
5-0s start crackin' the whip
Do a search find crack in the whip
Grab a jacket and split [cop: 'hold it right there!']
I'll be back in a bit, now I'm packin' a clip

[Beat stops, gunshots fire while Esoteric yells]
"I ain't goin' nowhere, take that take that
You ain't killin' me you ain't takin' me alive
I ain't goin out like that"

[Gunshots stop while old man Esoteric talks to his son]
Yo, take that shit the fuck up outta there
What I tell you bout makin' all that (no)
Ya Tech? ya Tech Tech ya ass to bed god dammit (no no)
No more XBOX for you for a week (no)
I'm sick a this, matter fact fuck that (*takes off his belt*)
C'mon boy, I'm bout to whoop your ass (*beats Esoteric with belt*)
Muthafucka, take that muthafucka
Gonna take that? Take this muthafucka (*Esoteric cries*)
Aw hell boy, stop that cryin'
I didn't raise me no little bytch!