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Death March - Post War Years



     
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Death March Lyrics


[Virtuoso]I'm omnipotent
You claim to win battles
So when the beat starts
I'll punch the tree bark
And pass the chainsaw to a ????? heart
Severing every animal
I'm doing dirt like earthworms
I'm sick and original
Boy, I gave birth to the first germs
I spit the acetate
To make your lips evaporate
The Master Ape
Bare hands will decapitate and bash your face
Pass the eight, sack of shake
Twisted in plasma tape
I came for y'all through the castle gate
I come across a substance yet I couldn't lacerate
Virtuoso is an unidentified flying object to make your space shuttle ???????

So while you drunks look for a hook and say you masturbate
Telling 7L to sratch a plate
In due for respect I slap your face
Ask to make my specs, I'm a tackle ya
You're a neck and I'm Dracula
Have sex in the back of a black Lex or an Acura
Met with the, Jedi Mind Tricks
We rhyme sick and side ????? for dime chicks
I'll strangle you, use my same hands to give you the Heimlick
So you can live to face more punishment from my divine lips
[Jus Allah]Jus Allah prays on the minds of the young
Silencing the devil that speaks with forked tongue
Taste my blade sharpness
Ranked in no class like Marxist
The heartless
Rise out of darkness
I'm the last head you should ever try to fuck with
Be the next memeber in the cast of my snuff flicks
Rough shit, don't even attempt sleeping
At war with the demons that live in infernal regions
Spawned from eternal semen bred flesh predators
Wings of the arms when you heels like Pegasus
Grabbing your leg, so you live to the heavenless
Drop this prejudice and follow me to Exodus
[Ikon the Hologram]We ravenous
Exhume the tomb of Lazarus
You blasphemous
We bring war to pacifists
Tarantulas, burn flesh like a nine glock
Your mind stops from nine of my divine shots
a pine box is fine for a killer to run
Swing from vines and rhyme like Atilla The Hun
Bring the gun, your tounge is what I'm slicing
We slap tracks and attack like M. Bison
Ilohem, fuck the pagans we mark them
And take turns to burn religious doctrines
Concoctions of pain hits from eight angles
Locked in the brain to lacerate ankles
[Esoteric]Yo, I rip mics, stick lames
Wreck nights, spit flames
Lead pipes, split frames
Kid ain't shit changed
Act trife
I grab the mic and bag your wife
Sacrifice you twice
Motherfuckering after life
Decimate your paradise
Burn tracks like thermostats
My personal attacks snap back to murder cats
I might advise
You type of guys should revitalize
Your man power, I sabotage the fire flys
With a dope rhyme
Take control of your soul
Grab a fourty fo' for the po's
Get your broken nose
Opponents go to shows
Now they know their robes damn hoes that fold my clohtes
I bark at these, mark MCs, park and freeze
My world hypothesis
Kill beasts like heart disease
Man please
You can never fuck with the Eso-teridactyl
My rap skills will thrash you
Motherfucker

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

Post War Years are a band from Royal Leamington Spa, who (according to their Myspace page) are Latin/Hard House/Jazz but they have an Alternative/Indie edge about them too. Post War Years consist of Si Critten, Henry Riggs, Tom O'Hare and Fred McLaren. They are all very nice chaps and in some cases close personal friends. They all enjoy a variety of musical styles and it shows, because they have a diverse range of songs evincing Prince to Battles as influences, unified thematically by all being jaw-droppingly great.

Read more about Post War Years on Last.fm.


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Post War Years