Violent J:
I think it's funny
how...the toughest
criminals and thugs and
whatever...
when they're on their death bed...
you know like the day
before they fry in the
electric chair...
all of a sudden they want
to get religious.
I heard that 9 out of 10
inmates on death row are
all ultra religious.
That's because they know
they're about to die.
That they are about to
meet whatever's after death.
It's funny...nobody
wants to turn to god
till it's too late.
Till it's time for you to fuckin' die

Violent J:
Agony
Pain
Suffering
Bang Bang
Chains
Devices
Torture things
Is this hell?
Might as well be
It's what's next and shit
I live life filthy
Sex, every bitch in the gutter
Then we rob or mudda
Find a shutta
And shoot fo or fo each otha
I blame it all on the
people around me
It's because of them
god never found me
Right?? (right?!?) (wrong)

Blaze Ya Dead Homie:
Before I hit the ground
When I got three in the chest
I should've guessed my time was over
Should've worn the fucking vest
But I wasn't thinking straight
Caught up in the thug life
Was the king on the streets
Now I'm asking god to take my life
To the pearly gates
So I can rest peacefully
But he wasn't helping me
Why has he forsaken me?
To eternity in hell
Left to rot in the grave
And if it wasn't for the Lotus
I'd still be there today

Chorus:
Call upon your gods
Beg for them to help you
Call upon your gods
Religion has left you
Now's the final hour
Cross the final line
Life will end
But there is no end to time
Call upon your gods
Beg for them to help you
Call upon your gods
Religion has left you
Now's the final hour
Cross the final line
Life will end
But there is no end to time

Shaggy 2 Dope:
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/HuoSkin seperates from bone
Seperates from bone
One hot flash of metal
Now your on this earth alone
Laying face down in your own blood
With nowhere to turn
Everything from your finger
tips to toes burn
Heat sets skin deep
Open up your eyes
The cold clutch of death's hand
He could care less about your life
As Hell's Chariots come
to carry you away
You finally realize
It's to late to pray

Monoxide Child:
Help me out
I can't understand the way you think
Or what you're talking about
I see you sit in
Perfect circles
With disciples of Satan
I got my shotgun cocked
Newspapers and revelations
Every bullet is a story
They keep it glorified
The media's the target
And now they gots to die
Son of Sam
Sam of son
Buck you with my shotgun
Wicked work will be done
Fuck it catch a hot one

Chorus

Jamie Madrox:
There ain't no end to time
You hear me heathen bitch boy?
Bite your devil tongue
Before I stab you with
this pitch fork
All that shit you talk about
"My God is ashamed"
Crying in pain
Calling his name
Your such a hypocrite
Low down inconsiderate
Piece of shit
And you ain't worth an ounce of spit
Blasphemous
Dissing my lord
And clocked out
Where's the tough guy
That told my God to go
and fuck himself? Bitch!

Anybody Killa:
I called upon my god
He told me which path to take
I just hope it's not another mistake
Confused by the things
that I'm feeling
Guns that I carry, hoes
that I'm drillin'
Tell me is this just
another fucked situation
Calling on my God cause
he's the cause of all
creation
Never was told things
would be like this
Always visioned that my
life would be filled
with happiness
What

Chorus

J Speaks in background