"The Slayer (Deadly Fusion Rap)" genre: Horrorcore
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	[ RAP ] : Deadly Fusion does it again, this time ripping up "Theme of a Dying Man". Deadly Fusion is a UK based hip-hop act who mix elements of both mainstream and underground hip-hop to create a 'deadly fusion' of sound. This ish is psychotic! Check out their page at: http://www.soundclick.com/bands/deadlyfusion_music.htm - Lyrics viewable.
	Credits: beat: ronzmac productions - lyrics/final mixdown: deadly fusion
	Lyrics Imbedded in prose lies the soul of one so cold The one hears fear thru acoustic tears If ever there was a being to be blessed with the passion But cursed with the talent it is he…flowing with needs of wack emcees and worthy victims bow as they bleed the seeds of envy. They say every man has their burden to bear Anguish to share…and if u met with The Slayer its one more cross to impair.... It’s a sickness, embodied in shadows, devoid of witness The pulse in the vein of a slayer is filled with quickness Written scriptures contain prophetical depictions Of future victims writhing in pain of superb evictions, Predictions supplied with the single basis of power Knowledge beyond comprehension making u cower. The microphone, the only tool of a true expert Specialized about routines preventing ur next birth. My text hurts the next verb could put u outta commission When a rendition fatal to heart killing as u just listen. All eyes on when the rise becomes a fall The skies encase us all so these rhymes enrage my storm. Souls sheathed by the strikes of keys resounding fees Rappers do it for the money; Slayer does it for the greed Of blood lust, got a blood rush all over the planet When I bring the meeting of weak emcees to verbal granite. The next level, the next plane the next dimension Future proofed. Couldn’t be reach thru rap dissection Invention of a new breed, the world new dream Developed the gleam in my eye with D.F. steam. Hook: Muthaphukers screaming as he put his claws into their flesh If u think ur dreaming feel the pain and realise ur death Face the Deadly Fusion when the moon prophesises ur doom Now u’ve met The Slayer it all over as ur souls entombed. All in capture of vocal rapture Graveyard await the news of souls and stature Attacking nervous system, neural damage clear-cut, Work down to ya abs where the hurting is fear-clutched. Yielding to the mercilessness of a mind acute Salute a rhyme flute as the tuneful design shoots. Twisted guts, intestinal infection ridden with rot Blood clots, haemorrhaging disposing the brain of shock Severing of arms to make mic grip not viable Employable timing making a heart beat unreliable Now I’m liable to slay numerous esteems Broken spleens, physically shattered beings. Over in the length of time its takes to playback Relay the data to the memory bank great tracks. I break backs and impede the mentality of greatness Combined with the nature to detect the pip of fakeness. Snakes in the grass can hide but if the grass is mown Only the tattered carcass of the shredded snake is shown, And when its blown, exposed and overgrown Any ego that thinks they can clash me is quickly sown. Every body has their cross to bare and mine is all the needy The torn emcees who’ve lost their way and became weedy. And now my Treaty is to be strong and be the light Illuminate the way to find lyricals of might. My soul ignites and is ready to endeavour Watever path u choose, don’t cross mine to storm my pleasure U’ll find urself harmed in a game whose main player Is equipped with a microphone...named The Slayer.

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