Headhunters by The Headless Tribe Lyrics
[Vvardenfell]
It’s time for headhunting, and you’re next on the chopping block
This sound is so heavy on your eardrums you’d swear that we were dropping rocks
Seeing red! Motherfucker, I got demons in my head
I’m the evil dead, a skinny mess, that only dreams of sin and death
I live my life only accompanied by SNES games and sweat stains
I don’t even try to get paid or get laid, fuck your money and your sex craze
I won’t stick a knife through ya, no, I’ll shoot bolts of lightning through ya
That’s right, I’m a goddamn madman, high on skooma
I spit fucking magma that will make your innards fiery
The stuff I write is more dangerous than Tom Riddle’s diary
Try to make sense of my brain, it’s like seeing a maze through broken glass
I make a hater grab a razor and carve my name in his lower back
More dope than crack, with the skills to maintain hype
And I’ll take your life by filling your head up with railway spikes
You might be menacing to idols, but I’m dismembering my rivals
Treat others like you wanna be treated? Well, I’m suicidal
[Spades]
Headless tribe! Hunting heads like archeologists
Aren't we part of this, we'll make God part with his
Popping pills I stole from the local pharmacist
And if I don't get high I'm gonna pop this bitch
I've gone so evil that the Slenderman wets his bed
So believe me when I say: Spades don't say empty threats
Or better yet; come and try me motherfucker
You'll be exposed to knives and rabid bites, motherfucker
I've got a wicked style, make them bitches howl
And if you're not with us I'm gonna kill you now
If you're asking for sympathy, bitch I got none
And keep heads rolling like bloodbaths in Stockholm
If I see a blunt, you know I'm gotta have it
Like guys hitting on moms at a soccer practice
You can call it habits, but God that's nasty
Like any ex-girlfriend that I've gone and fancied
It’s time for headhunting, and you’re next on the chopping block
This sound is so heavy on your eardrums you’d swear that we were dropping rocks
Seeing red! Motherfucker, I got demons in my head
I’m the evil dead, a skinny mess, that only dreams of sin and death
I live my life only accompanied by SNES games and sweat stains
I don’t even try to get paid or get laid, fuck your money and your sex craze
I won’t stick a knife through ya, no, I’ll shoot bolts of lightning through ya
That’s right, I’m a goddamn madman, high on skooma
I spit fucking magma that will make your innards fiery
The stuff I write is more dangerous than Tom Riddle’s diary
Try to make sense of my brain, it’s like seeing a maze through broken glass
I make a hater grab a razor and carve my name in his lower back
More dope than crack, with the skills to maintain hype
And I’ll take your life by filling your head up with railway spikes
You might be menacing to idols, but I’m dismembering my rivals
Treat others like you wanna be treated? Well, I’m suicidal
[Spades]
Headless tribe! Hunting heads like archeologists
Aren't we part of this, we'll make God part with his
Popping pills I stole from the local pharmacist
And if I don't get high I'm gonna pop this bitch
I've gone so evil that the Slenderman wets his bed
So believe me when I say: Spades don't say empty threats
Or better yet; come and try me motherfucker
You'll be exposed to knives and rabid bites, motherfucker
I've got a wicked style, make them bitches howl
And if you're not with us I'm gonna kill you now
If you're asking for sympathy, bitch I got none
And keep heads rolling like bloodbaths in Stockholm
If I see a blunt, you know I'm gotta have it
Like guys hitting on moms at a soccer practice
You can call it habits, but God that's nasty
Like any ex-girlfriend that I've gone and fancied