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The Rhymeweaver and Familyboy are the Gorehounds! |
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Written by M. Rizal
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Saturday, 30 August 2008 |
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The Rhymeweaver and Familyboy present
GOREHOUNDS
AVAILABLE NOW FOR LISTENING
www.myspace.com/therhymeweaver
www.myspace.com/familyboy1
CLICK HERE
OR HERE
TO LISTEN TO GOREHOUNDS
*link opens in new window
Artists: The Rhymeweaver and Familyboy
Song: Gorehounds
Produced by: Slaughtering Company
Mixed by: DMent (www.myspace.com/donmuhaimin)
(Lyrics after the jump)
[Familyboy]
One two, rusty knives coming at you
Forget three four, meet me at the rendezvous
Even five or six ain't gonna kill you just yet
Sleep throughout this verse, call yourself half-dead
With no fancy effects, I'm gonna slice up your rack
It's real at its best, not that lousy Devil's Reject
Disembowel you so I can see the meaning of emptiness
Just another nightmare, but I'm truly the handiest
Now who's getting the blame when you're bleeding right there
Alone, but I don't hesitate like that weak ass Jason
Do the chasing, I appear through walls in an instant
Shred your face with ease like a piece of sandpaper
Kill that heartbreaker, who wants to date a smoked meat
Need that artificial pussy coz Nancy won't sell cheap
Looking for excitement, you'll be awakened by the tongue
Let's play hide and seek but you can't leave Elm Street
[Chorus]
We ripping out your eardrums when we spit this raw sound
He got his torture weapons, I got my fuckin claw down
In my domain of torture, yo that's where your corpse found
You better wish you never fuck around with the gorehounds
(repeat 2x)
[The Rhymeweaver]
I'm the Dark Prince of Pain, a demon to some
An angel to others, love to see another man suffer
In the furthest reach of hell I dwell, and you can tell
I'm coming when you hear the sound of the bell
We sell physical bliss for the price of your soul
Our methods of pleasures are precise and controlled
We got razors and chains, metal spikes and a pole
Plus a set of device to pull your eyes from the hole
Suddenly the chains fly from the shadows and nooks
From everywhere in the room like an arrow that shoots
Lifting you up in the air with your elbows in hooks
Torturing you until your fuckin bone marrow exudes
Till you're reduced into a puddle of blood on the floor
And there's no sign of struggle, police are puzzled and lost
Coz we smuggled your soul into the realm of torture
Where the merest suffering is when the flame is scorching
[Chorus]
We ripping out your eardrums when we spit this raw sound
I got my torture weapons, he got his fuckin claw down
In my domain of torture, yo that's where your corpse found
You better wish you never fuck around with the gorehounds
(repeat 2x)
[Skit]
[The Rhymeweaver]
We ripping out your eardrums when we spit this raw sound
I got my torture weapons, he got his fuckin claw down
In my domain of torture, yo that's where your corpse found
You better wish you never fuck around with the gorehounds
[Familyboy]
We ripping out your eardrums when we spit this raw sound
He got his torture weapons, I got my fuckin claw down
In my domain of torture, yo that's where your corpse found
You better wish you never fuck around with the gorehounds
 Quote this article on your site
1. Written by The Rhymeweaver, on 01-09-2008 12:53
holy smokes, Batman! I got featured! thanks a lot man, i'll feature the free yo souls gig on my blog in return, that shit looks dope too, rugi sia takde kat malaysia skrg if not i could always join in.
Cheers
The Rhymeweaver
www.rhymeweaver.blogspot.com |
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