Don't Blame Me

Here I come, better run I gotta sawed off shotgun

Pump that buck and you might catch a hot one

Call me a head hunter, head's I've chopped off

Cemetary's full from the bodies I dropped off

Mothafuckaz hate me, 'cause I'm singing Blasphemy

Die and go to hell and when you get there ask for me

Come along for the ride, drive you to suicide

I'm the Unholy Esham, that's right

Get me a razor blade and I might jack a spade

Or jack jack my dick to a poor porno flick

Nasty motherfucker with the wicked mentallity

Thirteen ways is a small technicallity

'cause I got one, blow your fuckin head out

Pull your fuckin eyes out, just to get the red out

If you be a nigga or a white boy honkey

I get funky, hip hop junkie

Serial killa, frosted flakes

Fucked up in the head waking up with the shakes

Those are the breaks, fuckin up the fakes

Some shit I make you cant take

But dont blame me.

Dont blame me

Dont blame me

Dont blame me

Dont blame me, the devil made me do it.

Better reach your children, 'cause I might burn em'

Teach em' and learn em' a motherfuckin lesson

Get my Smith & Wesson and blow your baby's head off

From watchin bullshit, turn the T.V. set off

Psycho, and I might go like Michael

Say some shit that you might not like so

Who's that god that you praise the lord to

Buyin that ticket to the heavens, cant afford to

Esham's back with the New Jack Swing

I dont pray or none or those things

Now we got niggaz that's rappin bout god ya'll

Praise the lord to me the black oddball

I aint no joke and my words aint fiction

If you think so you can suck my dick then

I dont like preachers, or prayers, but playaz

Esham the Unholy wicked rhyme sayer

Swing with the Slayer, sing if you dare

But just like before I dont care

And dont blame me.

Dont blame me (we are searchers of the truth)

Dont blame me (we are searchers of the truth)

Dont blame me (we are searchers of the truth)

Dont blame me, the devil made me do it.

Sick in the head, knotty like a dread

Pump that lead 'cause I'd rather be dead

Gimme what you got if you hip you get with me

I think my wrist is talking to you tellin you to slit me

Suicidalist and I'm unorthadox

Down with the black sox, whiskey on the rocks

You might catch me in a jail cell with a wig

I slaughtered me a pig, but you cant dig

The voices in my head, tellin me to waste ya

Pig that Bacon ham sandwich I can taste ya

Everybody lookin for a bible to touch

We shall overcome is a bit too much

But you cant touch this

Religion is some hokus-pokus

Betcha seein god when you focus

But when the day comes and you gotta run for shelter

Now you screamin Hellterskellter

Damn, you gotta turn off the T.V.

Or dont blame me.

Dont blame me (dont start no shit now)

Dont blame me (dont start no shit now)

Dont blame me (dont start no shit now)

Dont balme me, the devil made me do it.