ICP and Esham wicked rappers delight 2015      Feinds of the wicked shit its time to get high   Bump your fuckin shit up for somthin wicked shit by   Detroits legendary demon lopatara   Staring you right back through your eyes in the mirror   Blowing out your brains spontaneous combustion   Lyrics like a barrel in each ear and im bustin   Fire breathin wicked shit meltin microphones   Blowing speakers into flames, settin fires to your home      How many times you gonna say i need help   Who gives a fuck if i murder myself   Im thinkin suicidal thoughts i shot a gay preacher   I didnt do my homework so i shot my teacher   I dropped out the next day fuck a g.e.d   Then i went and clowned the industry with ICP   Through up the 313, to let them know it was me   Esham is dope ho im the king of the D      I stole a fuckin firetruck and drove through a wendys   All that happen to me was a bullet in the kidneys   I almost died then but look at me i ride again   Whats really happenin, reality is pretend   You can blow my fuckin head off ill just grow another   My brain and my self, we dont even know each other   Somones in the darkness crawling out of my closet door   Thats what the nines in the mattress for      Warlocks and witches come and learn from the master   The walls of my home feature bodys in the plaster   The dead but sticking out like hon solo when he froze   With my favorite weapons hanging off there fingers and toes   Wicked pimpin, scary bitches, livin or dead   or with vampire fangs and they givin me head   Like cemetery girls back dance boogie woogie baddy   Her nedens big and blew out like a plate of spaghetti      Im out cold all my teeth gold   Plus i dont brush them    Quarterback sneakin plus dont care(?) you rush em   Bust em down bust em up steady fuckin em up   But wait why do i have all this blood on my hands   Blood on my clothes blood on my shoes   Im on the 10 o clock news for steady   Murdering crews and there point of views   Im like purple chronic mixed with acid, demonic   In a stomach full of jagermeister ready to vomit      Mirror mirror on the wall tell us who the wicked are   Shaggy E and Jay we in the game and gettin ours   Hittin stars in there mouth and bumpin off with rented necklaces    Wicked reckless nobody expected   Bumpin this wicked shit'll boil your brain dead   I can fry a mutha fuckin egg on your head   Break in and tie your fuckin feet up to your neck   Shoot you in the back once and kick you down the steps      I blow a crater in the side of your head   Do the same to your misses while yall sleepin in bed   Double murder robbery just another job to me   Rollin in a stolen buick hookers slobbin me   Known though the farms lands as a duke of the wicked   Always shootin the biggots and bootin the chickens   Askin me the wrong question also triggers my disease   They will find your body in compton in hallis(?) queens      The phone rung and on the other end it was the president   I cant talk right now im on the toilet takin a shit   hung up the phone i think my cover is blown im deep cover   Your wife ordered a pizza from me she got the meat lovers   Im johnny bravo the other black reo(?) get at me ho   I make these hos happy tho cause im there pappy oh   Its to soon for you to be on my team   But give r kelly a call i think like em 13      I once met a hooker and she did it for free   On the west verner bus number 73   All the way in the back she was humping on me   until i strangled the bitch and stuffed her under my seat   I got off on my stop without as much as a drop of blood   But then i realized i forgot to wear gloves   Now im chasing the bus my finger prints are on her neck   STOP! AND GIMME MY DEAD BITCH BACK!      Fuckin dead bitches on a Ouija board all night   Bustin off shots in the club we all fight   Hanging muther fuckers my there neck off of street lights   With there legs cut off tryin to read me rights (shiiit)   I whip my cd at you, stick it in yo face   Half way stickin out but look it still plays   I stomp when i rap and i shake the whole block   Stick my dick in your ear so you can hear what i got      I was one of those monsters in the video thriller   Known to the world as the pop star killer   And on another part from the ground i arose   Im the crusty ass booger hanging out of your nose   Im the stink on your toes im the weed to your rose   Not one of your friends but one of your foes   And spittin the wicked shit is the life i chose   Do a spin grab my nuts then b boy pose      Chain you up for some tic tacs bloody mess   We draw the board on your chest and take turns shootin the rest   I win everytime, beep the beat is good with every rhyme   And off with your head if in the way(?) your gettin mine   This is esham and the wicked clowns for the vote   We come flying out the dark with a triple moonsault   I through a snowball so hard it replaced your eye   It melted and left a fuckin hole and it was dry