FIENIN FOR MO (prod by itzricowey)

LIVE FROM THE PITS

DRAGONMANE - ALIZE (PROD. MR. SISCO)

Originally Released – 1994
Label – Self Release
Format – Cassette
Country – US

©℗ 1994, 2022 Sun City Publishing, LLC & Music Business Ent, LLC ®

King Goldy - Solo Tape

Buy Now - Album $5

King Goldy - Greater Later

FUCK A BUSTA NAMED BRANDON
U WAS TALKIN ALL DAT SHYT BUT STILL AINT DO NUN
COME N GET SUM BIAAATCHH‼️‼️

Come ‘N Get Sum

G0T0H3LL 

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G0T0H3LL

[Intro]  
Crimson fog rolls thick, jack-o-lantern grins split wide—  
Pumpkin innards spill, feeding fiends that slither inside.  

[Verse 1] 
Lurking in the boneyard haze, where epitaphs erode to dust,  
Wraiths claw through loam, exhaling rot that corrodes your trust.  
Skeletal fingers strum veins like banjo strings taut,  
Pluck the pulse from your throat, watch the ichor congeal in clots.  
Graveyard shift eternal, scythes swing in sync with the squall,  
Harvesting husks under harvest moons bloated, obscene, enthralled.  
Coffin lids creak confessions of carnage concealed in the clay,  
Unleashing legions of larvae that lattice your lungs, flay away.  
No eulogy suffices when the dirge devours the devout,  
Phantoms feast on phobias, filleting fears till they sprout.  

[Hook] 
Trick or torment, the veil rends, hell's hounds bay at the breach,  
Spectral scythes slice the silence, souls screech in the leach.  
Candy-coated carnage, masks melt to marrow and mire—  
Halloween's hex unravels, devours the dire.  
*(echo: devours... devours...)*  

[Verse 2]
Fog-fattened ghouls gorge on grief-glazed eyes,  
Iris ink spills secrets, staining sepia skies.  
Witch's wart-riddled warts weave wards that warp the weak,  
Brews bubble with bile from the bleakest of beaks.  
Prowling porchlights pulse with poltergeist pranks,  
Porcelain dolls dance, disemboweled in dank thanks.  
Razor-rimmed pumpkins puncture the pious parade,  
Gore-gargled giggles greet the masquerade's blade.  
Entendre's edge: treats turn to teeth in the trough,  
Or tricks transmute to talons, tough enough to trough.  

[Interlude] 
...and the clock strikes thirteen, chimes chime with the chime  
Of chainsaws chewing choruses from the sublime...  
*(scratch: rise... carve... devour)*  

[Verse 3] 
Catacomb corridors curl with the curl of cadaverous coils,  
Maggot minstrels murmur melodies that mar the mortals' moils.  
Eldritch effigies erect from the effluvium's embrace,  
Evoking eviscerations etched in every eclipsed face.  
Banshee bellows bellow through the belfry's battered bone,  
Banshee's breath begets the behemoth birthed from undertone.  
Vampiric vapors vamp on ventricles, viscous and vile,  
Draining the dregs till the derelict dial defiles the mile.  
No sanctuary in the spire's shadow, spires splinter to spears,  
Impaling the impudent, their innards inverted to spheres.  

[Bridge] 
Midnight's maw yawns wide, yawn of the yawning abyss,  
Where the damned draft decrees of the dreariest dismiss.  
Pumpkin patriarchs preside over the pandemonium's pyre,  
Incinerating innocents in the ire of the ire.  

[Verse 4] 
Executioner's echo executes the exquisite in exquisite detail,  
Axe arcs through auroras of arterial hail.  
Zombies zest with zest for the zest of zestless zest,  
Feasting on the festered, the festering's fest.  
Werewolf whelps whet their whetted whims on the whim,  
Whittling the wilting to whimsy within the grim.  
Ghoul galleys glide through the glade of the glaucous gloom,  
Gleaning the gleanings till the gloam consumes the room.  
Double's dagger: lights out means lanterns lure the lost,  
Or out means the outage orphans the ossified host.  

[Verse 5] 
Finale fractures the firmament with fiendish fission's fire,  
Apocalypse apples allure with the allure of the liar.  
Necrotic nobles negotiate the nadir's nocturnal nod,  
Nailing the nadir to the nexus of the godless sod.  
Revenants revel in the reveille of the ruptured repose,  
Rending the remnants till the requiem rose.  
Satanic scarecrows sentinel the sepulcher's sprawl,  
Scything the scions in the scrawl of the squall.  
No dawn dares the desecration's domain,  
Where the damned dictate the dirge's disdain—  
Halloween's horror hydra hungers, hydra-headed and hale,  
Hydrating the havoc till the hale turns to hail.  

[Outro] 
Echoes etch the end, but the end etches echoes anew...  
Carve your carve, or the carve carves you.  

Trick or Torment

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