Текст: Stuck Mojo. Declaration Of A Headhunter. Raise the Deadman.

It's time for me to raise that dead man


You must be going right out of your mind



Surprise me, you picked a hell of a time
You must despise me, the words I can't find
It's just me, hate machine by design


Lessons in respect could be easily achieved
A blow to the head, down 1-2-3


You could get up, stand up, fight for your life
A left and a right, then out go your lights




It's my life, my time and time for you to recognize

That pay backs from way back can

Hurt you like a motherfucker

Inside, outside, prepare for some retribution



My path is set and hell's comin' with me


It's time for me to raise the dead man

You're just standing there got


Piss runnin' down your leg


You bleed real nice and you're too proud to beg

Now your thoughts are turning toward

Obtaining a weapon

You didn't buy the last one so don't


Hesitate for a second



AR 15 and my Glock 40 cal
Converted Tech 9, now who's your favorite pal
I'd rather carve your heart out


With a dull rusty knife

And when it's all over, bigger fishes fry tonight