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Here I come, better run I gotta sawed off shotgunPump that buck and you might catch a hot oneCall me a head hunter, head's I've chopped offCemetery's full from the bodies I dropped offMothafuckaz hate me, 'cause I'm singing BlasphemyDie and go to hell and when you get there ask for meCome along for the ride, drive you to suicideI'm the Unholy Esham, that's rightGet me a razor blade and I might jack a spadeOr jack jack my dick to a poor porno flickNasty motherfucker with the wicked mentallityThirteen ways is a small technicallity'cause I got one, blow your fuckin head outPull your fuckin eyes out, just to get the red outIf you be a nigga or a white boy honkeyI get funky, hip hop junkieSerial killa, frosted flakesFucked up in the head waking up with the shakesThose are the breaks, fuckin up the fakesSome shit I make you can't takeBut don't blame me.(CHORUS)Don't blame meDon't blame meDon't blame meSongtexteDon't blame me, the devil made me do it.Better reach your children, 'cause I might burn em'Teach em' and learn em' a motherfuckin lessonGet my Smith & Wesson and blow your baby's head offFrom watchin bullshit, turn the T.V. set offPsycho, and I might go like MichaelSay some shit that you might not like soWho's that god that you praise the lord toBuyin that ticket to the heavens, can't afford toEsham's back with the New Jack SwingI don't pray or none or those thingsNow we got niggaz that's rappin bout god ya'llPraise the lord to me the black oddballI ain't no joke and my words ain't fictionIf you think so you can suck my dick thenI don't like preachers, or prayers, but playazEsham the Unholy wicked rhyme sayerSwing with the Slayer, sing if you dareBut just like before I don't careAnd don't blame me.(CHORUS)Don't blame me (we are searchers of the truth)Don't blame me (we are searchers of the truth)Don't blame me (we are searchers of the truth)Don't blame me, the devil made me do it.Sick in the head, knotty like a dreadPump that lead 'cause I'd rather be deadGimme what you got if you hip you get with meI think my wrist is talking to you tellin you to slit meSuicidalist and I'm unorthadoxDown with the black sox, whiskey on the rocksYou might catch me in a jail cell with a wigI slaughtered me a pig, but you can't digThe voices in my head, tellin me to waste yaPig that Bacon ham sandwich I can taste yaEverybody lookin for a bible to touchWe shall overcome is a bit too muchBut you can't touch thisReligion is some hokus-pokusBetcha seein god when you focusBut when the day comes and you gotta run for shelterNow you screamin HellterskellterDamn, you gotta turn off the T.V.Or don't blame me.(CHORUS)Don't blame me (dont start no shit now)Don't blame me (dont start no shit now)Don't blame me (dont start no shit now)Don't balme me, the devil made me do it. Aus Songtexte Mania