Fubar:

Wicked as they come, listening to Pun
While I drag body parts trying to fit them in my trunk
Living in the slums, city where I'm from
You'd get your head cut off while lifting up a gun
I am infinitely nuts, you hate when I show up
The minute that you run get your face and your throat cut
Incision in your lungs, pray that I don't thrust
And stick it in your gut just to bathe in the cold blood
It's like the scene from "The Shining"
Blood in the hallways, indeed it is frightening
I know you're skeptical, it seems like I'm lying
But I'm not, I actually live and breathe what I'm writing
Spitting hot flames
Rationalize by saying everything that I've done I did in god's name
Legend has it I am death and torment
Headless horseman I am Ichabod Crane
Since the age of fourteen
Swinging a machete like I'm Jason Voorhees
Welcome to my humble abode, window frames and doors keep
Moving like it's a maze but more bleek

Chorus:

You find it enticing
Try and analyze, lose you're life in the crisis
Mind is a vice grip
Enter at your own risk knowing that people tend to die when inside it

Sadida:

The name's Sadida, more than a danger
A force of nature in the torture chamber
No form of prayer will deny the execution
You can fight it, put your fists up like a revolution
Time of death is useless, killing it constantly
While others sell out to rebuild the economy
We kick philosophy as food for thought
These fools are lost, knew the cost but threw them off
Fame is a disease, got the game on repeat
All a circus act, ain't no need to be naming the freaks
Of course and why we come reporting live
Reading the news 'cause there's more to find
But recording time is what's being abused
By each of the dudes who are really confused
What they speak in the booth is sacrilegious
My plans are twisted won't even ask forgiveness

Subcon:

What's happening with your rapping? It wreaks of "crap" and
It's just "ass" and like you "crashed" into "shit" like "Biff Tannen"
If I went "back" to the "past" I would alter the "path" of rap and
I would send it in a different "direction" with lesser "traffic"
I'd be a "locomotive" in "motion" on every "track" and
"barrelling" towards the "future" "present" you a "trained" assassin
With sentences, pen in hand and a pad I'm crafting my "passion"
Don't "believe" in a "god" but "worship" Hip Hop like the "Vatican"
Imagine if, this imaginative man "flips"
Out an "acrobat" with the alphabet when the pen's gripped
Loud he spits and with his "sheets" so "clean" it's like he "shouts" it
Each "wave" he rides the "tide" and when he writes it's like you're "drowning"
A "battleship" grammatic attack a tactical strategist
A "shark swimming" with "fishes" they're getting "fried" when I "batter" them
In a matter of moments these spits that "fracture" opponents "ribs"
Are gut busting punches in bunches that "crunch" their "abdomens"