[Intro]
I could of grabbed this microphone
I'd beat your brains out with it
Because that's what you deserve, that's what you deserve

[Cruger]
Cruger might appear while your sound asleep
Till your no longer sound, and you shout and scream
So loud it seems to wake every house in reach
Even the last one down your street
Found your dreams, Got you so afraid of day
Made your brain stay away for about a week
With as much courage as “Courage the Cowardly Dog"
Would have in the night of the howling beast
I carry a raven around with me, that sits on my Kreuger
Glove like a falcony
Now I see through the eye it ripped out and keeps in it’s mouth
Dangling it down it’s beak
Clown MC’s like ICP, when I say you make the crowd bounce
I mean leave
Beats me how anyone could beat me, Don’t bite my tongue
I am one of the men behind the sun

[Chorus x2]
Get ready to die
Prepare for genocide
The end is nigh, my son
Get with the times
Our time has come
Hide & Run from
The Men Behind the Sun
[Lord Measle]
We’ve raised the bar, US blaze cigars
Sitting around a table with dogs playing cards
We ain’t for the feint at heart, Keep kids locked in an attic
I drop explicit imagery like the prophet Mohammed
Only 19 but my mind is older, Every day I don’t get blood I get colder
When I say my life is over, I’m not depressed
Lonely or dead, Since I saw two holes in my neck
Now murder is my only intent, But this ain’t mouth to mouth (No!!)
I’m sucking a soul from the chest
Once you show disrespect, theres no going back
I’ll brand my name on your head and put it in my bowling bag
(Strike!) Lines, cut ‘em, throw up your U’s
We make music that turns heads, And stomaches too
(Unusuowl!!!), We got Jak up in this, “The Men Behind the Sun”
And we’ll call you every name under it

[Chorus x2]

Somebody sign me quick
Wait the virus did
Electric Circuit, circa '96
I’ve been sick behind the blinds of IV drip
Hiding from sunlight inside the crib
Rhymey shit, like a file of mad scientists
Surrounded by dead Chinese chicks
King of the addicts, Who’s a bigger looser? and who is not?
I’ve been to more rehabs than Robert Downey Jr. (Stop!)
I can bench press a Buick, my adrenaline can fuel an ox
I murder rappers to soothing sounds of an open music box
It’s not the substance in the tunes I drop
It’s the burial ground of dead animals under the back porch
And confuse my mom, and my room is stocked
Penethol juices, nylon noose’s knots, Q-tip syringe, toolkit box
Body refuse disinfectants, peroxide usage stopped
My motives so sick, the way I kill ? will be an art
The new kids mock, ligature bruises used to ?
Had to change it twice, for the knee deep levels of stool
And puke ‘em up, it’s not ? to ?, I beat ya
Smash tom-toms, Spit with that Cafe Khufu, Hookah ha
[Chorus x2]
Get ready to die
Prepare for genocide
To end this night my sun
Get with the times
Our time has come
Hide & Run from
The Men Behind the Sun

[Outro]

Never before has such evil villainous scum recorded such a masterpiece