Lyricist: Michael Trewartha, Kyle Trewartha, Thutmose, Annika Wells & Jake Torrey   Composer: Michael Trewartha, Kyle Trewartha, Thutmose, Annika Wells & Jake Torrey


Yeah
Body, body, body, body
Did Grand Theft Auto really teach you how to shoot down helicopters there?
Yeah, yeah, I do, it's just X, A, right trigger

I got a hunger, I got a fever
And it just won't quit
I got a temper, I got a bullet
With your name on it
Everybody wonders what it's like on top
I don't gotta wonder 'cause I call the shots
I got a hunger, I got a fever
I got a fresh hit list

My blood runs cold and my feet run faster
I still got heart, I hear a heart don't matter
Say what you want and it'll be your last words
It ain't a secret, I got a hit list
And baby, you're up next

Stack 'em up, stack 'em up
Teach 'em not to fuck with me
Bag 'em up, bag 'em up
Let 'em know who runs these streets
Take 'em down, take 'em down
Count 'em out like one, two, three
Add a-na-na-na-na-na-na-nother one (Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah, woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah)
To the body count

You think you can stop me, yeah
Oh man, that's so funny, yeah
I'll pull out the Uzi, blow your brains out
Then I'm nutting, yeah
This is not a game, ayy, this is not for fame, yeah
Baby, I'm deranged, but fuck it, I can't complain, yeah
Psycho in my vein (Ayy), shootin' with no aim (Ayy)
Cleanin' out my chopper (Ayy), bring it out and it let it bang
I might be insane (Ayy), my thoughts is to blame (Ayy)
I've been hurt many times, now you gotta feel my pain
I've seen bodies on bodies, bodies on bodies
Bodies on bodies, mm-hmm
Go in through the lobby, leave in a Audi
Hands all bloody, mm-hmm
Ridin' with the top off, roof look like it's chopped off
Grand Theft Auto taught me how to shoot down helicopters
Bullet with your name on it, spray it, let it rain on 'em
Told you not to fuck with me
That heartless all the same to me, I got so much rage in me
Told you not to fuck with me (Yeah, yeah)

I got a sickness (Got a sickness), you wouldn't want this (Nah)
It's comin' down real bad (Real bad, real bad)
You brought a dull knife (Yeah) into a gun fight (Woo)
You better watch your back (Watch your back, boy)
Don't you ever wonder what it's like on top (Yeah)
I don't gotta wonder 'cause I'm never not (Yuh)
I got a sickness (Got a sickness), I got a hit list (Got a hit list)
And baby, you're up next (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

My blood runs cold (Runs cold) and my feet run faster (Runnin', baby)
I still got heart (Uh, yeah), I hear a heart don't matter (Doesn't matter)
Say what you want (What you want) and it'll be your last words (Yeah)
It ain't a secret (Yeah), I got a hit list (What?)
And baby, you're up next (Woo, woo, yeah)

Stack 'em up (Stack 'em up), stack 'em up (Stack 'em up, yeah)
Teach 'em not to fuck with me (Fuck)
Bag 'em up (Bag 'em up), bag 'em up (Bag 'em up, yeah)
Let 'em know who runs these streets (Yeah)
Take 'em down, take 'em down (Take 'em down, down)
Count 'em out like one, two, three (Yeah)
Add a-na-na-na-na-na-na-nother one (Another one)
To the body count

Body Count

Preview Open KKBOX

Lyricist: Michael Trewartha, Kyle Trewartha, Thutmose, Annika Wells & Jake Torrey   Composer: Michael Trewartha, Kyle Trewartha, Thutmose, Annika Wells & Jake Torrey


Yeah
Body, body, body, body
Did Grand Theft Auto really teach you how to shoot down helicopters there?
Yeah, yeah, I do, it's just X, A, right trigger

I got a hunger, I got a fever
And it just won't quit
I got a temper, I got a bullet
With your name on it
Everybody wonders what it's like on top
I don't gotta wonder 'cause I call the shots
I got a hunger, I got a fever
I got a fresh hit list

My blood runs cold and my feet run faster
I still got heart, I hear a heart don't matter
Say what you want and it'll be your last words
It ain't a secret, I got a hit list
And baby, you're up next

Stack 'em up, stack 'em up
Teach 'em not to fuck with me
Bag 'em up, bag 'em up
Let 'em know who runs these streets
Take 'em down, take 'em down
Count 'em out like one, two, three
Add a-na-na-na-na-na-na-nother one (Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah, woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah)
To the body count

You think you can stop me, yeah
Oh man, that's so funny, yeah
I'll pull out the Uzi, blow your brains out
Then I'm nutting, yeah
This is not a game, ayy, this is not for fame, yeah
Baby, I'm deranged, but fuck it, I can't complain, yeah
Psycho in my vein (Ayy), shootin' with no aim (Ayy)
Cleanin' out my chopper (Ayy), bring it out and it let it bang
I might be insane (Ayy), my thoughts is to blame (Ayy)
I've been hurt many times, now you gotta feel my pain
I've seen bodies on bodies, bodies on bodies
Bodies on bodies, mm-hmm
Go in through the lobby, leave in a Audi
Hands all bloody, mm-hmm
Ridin' with the top off, roof look like it's chopped off
Grand Theft Auto taught me how to shoot down helicopters
Bullet with your name on it, spray it, let it rain on 'em
Told you not to fuck with me
That heartless all the same to me, I got so much rage in me
Told you not to fuck with me (Yeah, yeah)

I got a sickness (Got a sickness), you wouldn't want this (Nah)
It's comin' down real bad (Real bad, real bad)
You brought a dull knife (Yeah) into a gun fight (Woo)
You better watch your back (Watch your back, boy)
Don't you ever wonder what it's like on top (Yeah)
I don't gotta wonder 'cause I'm never not (Yuh)
I got a sickness (Got a sickness), I got a hit list (Got a hit list)
And baby, you're up next (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

My blood runs cold (Runs cold) and my feet run faster (Runnin', baby)
I still got heart (Uh, yeah), I hear a heart don't matter (Doesn't matter)
Say what you want (What you want) and it'll be your last words (Yeah)
It ain't a secret (Yeah), I got a hit list (What?)
And baby, you're up next (Woo, woo, yeah)

Stack 'em up (Stack 'em up), stack 'em up (Stack 'em up, yeah)
Teach 'em not to fuck with me (Fuck)
Bag 'em up (Bag 'em up), bag 'em up (Bag 'em up, yeah)
Let 'em know who runs these streets (Yeah)
Take 'em down, take 'em down (Take 'em down, down)
Count 'em out like one, two, three (Yeah)
Add a-na-na-na-na-na-na-nother one (Another one)
To the body count