Esham - Morty's Theme Lyrics
[esham]Usin my inhibitions, callin my intuitionsSomethings goin on if Im feelin not superstitiousIm vicious, Im trapped inside the paradoxWhen my thoughts get twisted like some dreadlocksI never or ever wondered bout the voodooI sing the voodoo, and now my deepest fears is comin throughI never loved ya, but I hate ya isleHow could I love you, how, because I hate you knowSo when you, I take you under, wit the wicked menAnd wit the wickedness, I make a preacher slit his *****in wristNo comin near me, when Im thinkin thisCuz when Im thinkin this, Im thinkin suicidalist, uhSo back up off me, bust a brain sale, I bust a brain cellI fall asleep and dream about hellSome wonder why Im even callin yaThe sky is fallin yall, but after all its my deepest feeling[chorus]Morty (nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide)Morty (how you gon hide from the fears inside)[esham]Cant decode dependencies, suicidal tendenciesBrain your melt down, street lobotomyClaustrophobia, locked in the pine boxNow I lay me down to sleep, six feet deepClosed casket, just another basket caseNot a mannequin, but a mad man, so you panic kidRun from it, everybody scared, so youre callin outBuckshots, shotgun blast, now you fallin outEverybody hide from the deepest fears insideWatch me and my man morty take you on a murder rideSuicide symptoms of the sanity, Im blankin outPolly want a cracker, but Im never ever crankin outCall me dr. frankenstein, dead bodies thinkin imGonna get, wit ya, when I hit ya, imma slit yaNobody can hold me, other safe is clearBuried alive in the pine box is my deepest fear[chorus][esham]Its ever so clear, my deepest fear is to hit the screensThe sounds of a madman, embattled in mortys themeI dream, and nightmares come true, simply voodooHallucinatin visions of killin youThe thought of even thinkin that, I think I need a drinkIn fact I think I need some therapy cuz aint nobody helpin meSince I got no excuses, for mental abuses, Im losin faithMy only fear is to love instead of hate youBorn and bred, gone dead, my mind bledEvery time the holy Bible was readTo say that I love consciousness, and wound up wit wicked waysThink about voodoo dolls, runnin wild on my last daysSpit wit morty, my shorty, no ventriloquistEsham the unholy, straight suicidalist[chorus]
