Apartment 223

Do not ring the bell, there is nobody home<br>The spirits around will haunt you, do not ring the bell<br>There is nobody home<br><br>Apartment 223,(Scratch: I`m very hungry) (3x)<br><br>Apartment 223 with body parts under my bed <br>cut your abdomen out stab your fuckin leather coat<br>I chant while candles burn with robes on <br>You will learn <br>Christian no Hebrew on the the balcony I see you <br>The devils coffin with corpse of course <br>In a mental state earthquake<br>Schitzophrenic eatin` Campbells soup <br>Takin a piss urinalysis test <br>I hope you wear a fuckin bullet proof vest<br>Just purchased the charter arms .38<br>Then you entered the confetti hell gate <br>On the pee(?) floor bloody towels on sculptures<br>Machine gun suitcases, for all you niggaz with 2 faces<br>Mass murder, should have been in San Quentin<br>I`m doin`life to ten, when I come home you goddamn <br>right I`m goin back again<br>Fuck the drinks on the table<br>While you sleep I take pictures of bullets in your navel<br>Open your face and pour milk in your forehead <br>Count the bodies, that`s four dead<br>Look behind your fuckin` back<br>With the drill bit in your ass crack, EXTREME PRESSURE<br>Teach you a lesson <br>Fuck your confession of evil I march with black sheep on the Sunset streets <br>With hoods like Dracula<br>I walk in back of ya <br>Draggin you stomach parts to McDonalds <br>Drink Absolut bottles and bottles, while you tryin` <br>to fuck with the most exotic models<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>As you see the sign, beware of animals <br>A fuckin wild habitat<br>My living room is the wilderness with spots on <br>my carpet<br>practicing my gun targets <br>Virtual reality is a rough end to yor career <br>set you on fire in a leather chair <br>Using charcoal to broil <br>Rap you jealous eyeballs in aluminum foil<br>Wearin` Masses(masks) on the telephone talkin to <br>your black asses, with stocking caps I reach<br>I`m takin`your ass in a rented van to Venice Beach<br>In a cardboard box <br>Beatin` down your knees with a bag of Master locks<br>Police can`t hear you with a dead body tied near you<br>It`s hot, I `m drinkin` soda with a tech-9 sprayin`<br>your fan belt motor<br>Stop the bullshit, blast you hands of the hood<br>I pull quick <br>Video tape you in a puddle of blood with razors in <br>your dick<br>With an extra clip I move your torso<br>Spit on you hips <br>With Mac-11 vice grips, surgery is major<br>With my sneakers stompin` on your pager<br>With my cup of Maxwell coffee, I like niggas whose<br>bossy<br>Fuck the critics I press your back <br>Steam burn through your straight leg jeans <br>Soakin your bones out in the washing machine, with<br>tide soap in the laundromat you witness the killing<br>Your man got scared called Riverdale with a baseball<br>hat, took a cab to Hawthorne <br>I know where he`s goin` <br>You can`t hide in an empty apartment with a matress<br>and no protection, with a New York psycho<br>Bombshells in the Hollywood section<br>I`m pressin bells and bells and bells till you fuckin <br>let me in <br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>Follow you on tour like a haunted nightmare<br>Kickin` in your intestines like Rick Flair<br>Standin` by the Mobil gas station with a flamethrower<br>and a fuckin lawnmower, throwin big lighters at your fuel tank<br>I smash your face in the elestric window, piss on <br>your fenders<br>With my ubbrella up like the Avengers<br>Plead guily in court bring glocks through security<br>x-reays going for the worlds record<br>Shut the fuck up about music, I`m playin` checkers <br>with blood Polo shirts<br>Lookin` at the fireworks <br>on the dirty ass terrace<br>Bones in `fridgerators spring water and lettuce<br>Fuck it if your jealous <br>Gather crackers with flowers around `em<br>Keep you eyes around `em <br>Buck dishes, dial your ambulance I`m on a mission <br>Open up your shin guards in tinfoil<br>Warmin` my bread and Saurkraut while your legs boil <br>Ketchup and Mustard, Fuck voodoo<br>Paint on my face lookin off my roof like Shaka Zulu<br>Surroundin you area for the biggest mass hysteria<br>Muhammed don`t (he mad?)<br>While you motherfuckers eat pork I tast real humans <br>on my fork<br><br>[Chorus x4]<br><br>[Frankenstien`s assistant type voice]<br>You do not see anything on the table? (Chairs <br>squeak against floor) Well wait until I get the box....