[=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=]
[   SONG: Sniper Man          ]
[  ALBUM: Manhunt the Mixtape ]
[ ARTIST: Hyper Sniper        ]
[   YEAR: 2007                ]
[=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=]


 (verse 1)

seems like a be a life jacket in the sea
of watered down slaughterhouse imitating enemies
you either drown or get eaten by piranhas
either way you's a bitch, period. and fuck a comma
non stop with that drama
no stopping them bombs i dropped off at wal-mart while your momma was off shoppin
in the parking lot, they copped ya momma's honda
hauled it off to the chop shop for ross farber
my profit sky rocket
y'all niggas dying often, crying mommas buying coffins
when he go, check the guy's pockets. homie nice wallet
i'm the diabolic guy walkin at midnight stalkin
with three 9's carved in my forehead (they written upside down!)
don't doubt the savage, i'm the slaughterhouse fanatic
with machetes hanging out the window in and out of traffic
even your little sister pussy ain't as tight as me
and if you sicker than me, it's probably hepatitus b


 (hook)

i'm the sniper man, not your everyday type of cat
blood pourin out my nose when i write a rap
settle down, you ain't gotta trip homie
get the shotgun sittin on your bottom lip, homie
see i'm the sniper man, not your everyday type of cat
blood soaking up the page when i write a rap
so settle down, you ain't gotta trip homie
i'll turn your whole fuckin family to sausages homie


 (verse 2)

see i'm the sniper man
best believe it ain't no stopping me
i'll punch your face till it's bumpy, lookin like cottage cheese
you jockin me on your knees
slaughter team in Oz and we throwing apples back at the talking trees
we drank incredible hulk and man i damn near
fell the fuck over, feeling smooth as like, cashmere
around here, i be off of the cammo
having theories that rocky balboa shot at rambo (oh no!)
yes indeed, death'll be the recipe
melt you like nestlee's, see how much your chest can bleed
that's for everything you did disrepecting me
forget the beef, you just lost respect and your cheddar cheese. 
but that's more for me. i'll stash it in the slaughterhouse where we store the beef
what you call blood and guts, i call pork and beans
storm your beach like normandy
bring your homeboy nigga, i'll bring a whorde of these niggas
all disorderly. we got a score to keep
last i checked it was like 0 to 43
you get torn to pieces without a warning
we swarm the back door and leave the poor police with more deceased


 (hook)

i'm the sniper man, not your everyday type of cat
blood pourin out my nose when i write a rap
settle down, you ain't gotta trip homie
get the .40-cal sittin on your bottom lip, homie
see i'm the sniper man, not your everyday type of cat
blood soaking up the page when i write a rap
so settle down, you ain't gotta trip homie
i'll turn your whole fuckin family to sausages homie