"Maestro Cuchillada" lyrics
Maestro cuchillada
Kill your masters in Prada
Bitter bastard armada
Mama made me a martyr
Die for the crown and honor
Gotta get my nirvana
Lotta you pussys wanna
Talk but it always nada
Never tied a rope
But the devil want me to choke
The metaphysical of the bitter pill in my throat
Envisioned living better
But never bet a vendetta would get a temper from heaven
I'm bending levels ascending
To every fucking direction
What you wanting to know
How'd this little mother fucker get to living so cold
I was good
Mama raised me to be filled with the hope
With no apologies I murdered all the masters I know
To every master
A match for
Cataclysm disaster
The Paster
Done asked for
Heaven betting the rapture
End the devil
Left inside the head of a kid
Who only fell from heaven cause they lesson learnt wasn't his
What's a burden for bliss
Did you earn what you wished
Did it end another murder of turbulent prick
Looking nervous you sick
Bit disturbing it sticks
In your mind until you find you manifested the shit
Maestro cuchillada
Kill your masters in Prada
Bitter bastard armada
Mama made me a martyr
Die for the crown and honor
Gotta get my nirvana
Lotta you pussys wanna
Talk but it always nada
Maestro cuchillada
Could never live in a shadow
Knife to the master
The student one day will outgrow
Blood and guts encompasses
Numbing cuts from the loving less
Couldn't miss what they would've wished
Slavery for the minds of kids
I see the matrix
They medicating the clones
Keeping eyes in the ancients and basing them in the wrong
Bet a prize on the spaceship they taking out of the globe
Leaving lives in the basement degrading how we had grown
Mama told me things
Papa told me never fiend
Both them told me that we only pawns inside their crooked dreams
Never live in their regime
Break the walls and skin them clean
Let them know the soul you hold
Is golden never bend a knee
Crown made of thorns let me wear it proud
Kingdom of dirt not a slave in the town
Know your worth
They'll dig Graves for the proud
Hit them where it hurts put they head in the ground
Maestro cuchillada
Kill your masters in Prada
Bitter bastard armada
Mama made me a martyr
Die for the crown and honor
Gotta get my nirvana
Lotta you pussys wanna
Talk but it always nada
Kill your masters in Prada
Bitter bastard armada
Mama made me a martyr
Die for the crown and honor
Gotta get my nirvana
Lotta you pussys wanna
Talk but it always nada
Never tied a rope
But the devil want me to choke
The metaphysical of the bitter pill in my throat
Envisioned living better
But never bet a vendetta would get a temper from heaven
I'm bending levels ascending
To every fucking direction
What you wanting to know
How'd this little mother fucker get to living so cold
I was good
Mama raised me to be filled with the hope
With no apologies I murdered all the masters I know
To every master
A match for
Cataclysm disaster
The Paster
Done asked for
Heaven betting the rapture
End the devil
Left inside the head of a kid
Who only fell from heaven cause they lesson learnt wasn't his
What's a burden for bliss
Did you earn what you wished
Did it end another murder of turbulent prick
Looking nervous you sick
Bit disturbing it sticks
In your mind until you find you manifested the shit
Maestro cuchillada
Kill your masters in Prada
Bitter bastard armada
Mama made me a martyr
Die for the crown and honor
Gotta get my nirvana
Lotta you pussys wanna
Talk but it always nada
Maestro cuchillada
Could never live in a shadow
Knife to the master
The student one day will outgrow
Blood and guts encompasses
Numbing cuts from the loving less
Couldn't miss what they would've wished
Slavery for the minds of kids
I see the matrix
They medicating the clones
Keeping eyes in the ancients and basing them in the wrong
Bet a prize on the spaceship they taking out of the globe
Leaving lives in the basement degrading how we had grown
Mama told me things
Papa told me never fiend
Both them told me that we only pawns inside their crooked dreams
Never live in their regime
Break the walls and skin them clean
Let them know the soul you hold
Is golden never bend a knee
Crown made of thorns let me wear it proud
Kingdom of dirt not a slave in the town
Know your worth
They'll dig Graves for the proud
Hit them where it hurts put they head in the ground
Maestro cuchillada
Kill your masters in Prada
Bitter bastard armada
Mama made me a martyr
Die for the crown and honor
Gotta get my nirvana
Lotta you pussys wanna
Talk but it always nada
Writer(s): Grant Lalaian
