Apartment 223 Lyrics by Dr. Dooom

Apartment 223 Lyrics

    Do not ring the bell, there is nobody home
    The spirits around will haunt you, do not ring the bell
    There is nobody home

    Apartment 223,(scratch: i'm very hungry) (3x)

    Apartment 223 with body parts under my bed
    Cut your abdomen out stab your fuckin leather coat
    I chant while candles burn with robes on
    You will learn
    Christian no hebrew on the the balcony i see you
    The devils coffin with corpse of course
    In a mental state earthquake
    Schitzophrenic eatin' campbells soup
    Takin a piss urinalysis test
    I hope you wear a fuckin bullet proof vest
    Just purchased the charter arms .38
    Then you entered the confetti hell gate
    On the pee(?) floor bloody towels on sculptures
    Machine gun suitcases, for all you niggaz with 2 faces
    Mass murder, should have been in san quentin
    I'm doin'life to ten, when i come home you goddamn
    Right i'm goin back again
    Fuck the drinks on the table
    While you sleep i take pictures of bullets in your navel
    Open your face and pour milk in your forehead
    Count the bodies, that's four dead
    Look behind your fuckin' back
    With the drill bit in your ass crack, extreme pressure
    Teach you a lesson
    Fuck your confession of evil i march with black sheep on the sunset streets
    With hoods like dracula
    I walk in back of ya
    Draggin you stomach parts to mcdonalds
    Drink absolut bottles and bottles, while you tryin'
    To fuck with the most exotic models

    [chorus]

    As you see the sign, beware of animals
    A fuckin wild habitat
    My living room is the wilderness with spots on
    My carpet
    Practicing my gun targets
    Virtual reality is a rough end to yor career
    Set you on fire in a leather chair
    Using charcoal to broil
    Rap you jealous eyeballs in aluminum foil
    Wearin' masses(masks) on the telephone talkin to
    Your black asses, with stocking caps i reach
    I'm takin'your ass in a rented van to venice beach
    In a cardboard box
    Beatin' down your knees with a bag of master locks
    Police can't hear you with a dead body tied near you
    It's hot, i 'm drinkin' soda with a tech-9 sprayin'
    Your fan belt motor
    Stop the bullshit, blast you hands of the hood
    I pull quick
    Video tape you in a puddle of blood with razors in
    Your dick
    With an extra clip i move your torso
    Spit on you hips
    With mac-11 vice grips, surgery is major
    With my sneakers stompin' on your pager
    With my cup of maxwell coffee, i like niggas whose
    Bossy
    Fuck the critics i press your back
    Steam burn through your straight leg jeans
    Soakin your bones out in the washing machine, with
    Tide soap in the laundromat you witness the killing
    Your man got scared called riverdale with a baseball
    Hat, took a cab to hawthorne
    I know where he's goin'
    You can't hide in an empty apartment with a matress
    And no protection, with a new york psycho
    Bombshells in the hollywood section
    I'm pressin bells and bells and bells till you fuckin
    Let me in

    [chorus]

    Follow you on tour like a haunted nightmare
    Kickin' in your intestines like rick flair
    Standin' by the mobil gas station with a flamethrower
    And a fuckin lawnmower, throwin big lighters at your fuel tank
    I smash your face in the elestric window, piss on
    Your fenders
    With my ubbrella up like the avengers
    Plead guily in court bring glocks through security
    X-reays going for the worlds record
    Shut the fuck up about music, i'm playin' checkers
    With blood polo shirts
    Lookin' at the fireworks
    On the dirty ass terrace
    Bones in 'fridgerators spring water and lettuce
    Fuck it if your jealous
    Gather crackers with flowers around 'em
    Keep you eyes around 'em
    Buck dishes, dial your ambulance i'm on a mission
    Open up your shin guards in tinfoil
    Warmin' my bread and saurkraut while your legs boil
    Ketchup and mustard, fuck voodoo
    Paint on my face lookin off my roof like shaka zulu
    Surroundin you area for the biggest mass hysteria
    Muhammed don't (he mad?)
    While you motherfuckers eat pork i tast real humans
    On my fork

    [chorus x4]

    [frankenstien's assistant type voice]
    You do not see anything on the table? (chairs
    Squeak against floor) well wait until i get the box....

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