Body Count

Body Count - Grey/Thutmose

Lyrics by：Kyle Trewartha/Michael Trewartha/Annika Wells/Jake Torrey/Umar Ibrahim

Composed by：Kyle Trewartha/Michael Trewartha/Annika Wells/Jake Torrey/Umar Ibrahim

Yeah

Body body body body

Did grand theft auto really teach

You how to shoot down helicopters there

Yeah yeah I do it's just X a right trigger

I got a hunger I got a fever

And it just won't quit

I got a temper I got a bullet

With your name on it

Everybody wonders what it's like on top

I don't gotta wonder 'cause I call the shots

I got a hunger I got a fever

I got a fresh hit list

My blood runs cold and my feet run faster

I still got heart I hear a heart don't matter

Say what you want and it'll be your last words

It ain't a secret I got a hit list

And baby you're up next

Stack 'em up stack 'em up

Teach 'em not to f**k with me

Bag 'em up bag 'em up

Let 'em know who runs these streets

Take 'em down take 'em down

Count 'em out like one two three

Add a-na-na-na-na-na-na-nother one

Yeah

To the body count

You think you can stop me yeah

Oh man that's so funny yeah

I'll pull out the uzi blow your brains out

Then I'm running yeah

This is not a game ayy this is not for fame yeah

Maybe I'm deranged but f**k it I can't complain yeah

Psycho in my vein ayy

Shootin' with no aim ayy

Cleanin' out my chopper ayy

Bring it out and it let it bang

I might be insane ayy my past is to blame ayy

I've been hurt many times now you gotta feel my pain

I see bodies on bodies bodies on bodies

Bodies on bodies mm-hmm

Go in through the lobby leave in a audi

Hands all bloody mm-hmm

Ridin' with the top off

Roof look like it's chopped off

Grand theft auto taught me

How to shoot down helicopters

Bullet with your name on

It spray it let it rain on 'em

Told you not to f**k with me

Dead heartless all the same to me

I got so much rage in me

Told you not to f**k with me yeah yeah

I got a sickness got a sickness

You wouldn't want this nah

It's comin' down real bad real bad real bad

You brought a dull knife yeah into a gun fight woo

You better watch your back watch your back boy

Don't you ever wonder what it's like on top yeah

I don't gotta wonder 'cause I'm never not yuh

I got a sickness got a sickness

I got a hit list got a hit list

And baby you're up next

My blood runs cold runs cold

And my feet run faster runnin' baby

I still got heart uh yeah

I hear a heart don't matter doesn't matter

Say what you want what you want

And it'll be your last words yeah

It ain't a secret yeah

I got a hit list what

And baby you're up next

Stack 'em up stack 'em up

Stack 'em up yeah

Teach 'em not to f**k with me f**k

Bag 'em up bag 'em up

Bag 'em up bag 'em up yeah

Let 'em know who runs these streets yeah

Take 'em down take 'em down take 'em down down

Count 'em out like one two three yeah

Add a-na-na-na-na-na-na-nother one another one

To the body count