Children's Morgue
distorted bass, glitch, offbeat rhythms, breakcore, industrial, music box, horror-electro, speedcore, chopped vocals, whisper-screams, eerie lullaby, vocal distortions, surreal, chaotic, grotesque
Stei Camel 🐪·2:58
2:58
Children's Morgue
distorted bass, glitch, offbeat rhythms, breakcore, industrial, music box, horror-electro, speedcore, chopped vocals, whisper-screams, eerie lullaby, vocal distortions, surreal, chaotic, grotesque
Creator: Stei Camel 🐪Release Date: March 16, 2025
Lyrics
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Decompose, when it comes to this rap, man, I be O.D. though
Lyrical pyrex, pyromaniac, that ain't a typo
Glock 9 give you a facelift like Michael
Son, I'm back with it, back spinnin', your girl's back in it
Back crackin' it, rap sassin' it, like "come back with it"
Old-school with it, the old dude with it
But still I crush you little babies and your whole crew with it
The old guard still playin' cards
Penny ante style, we the Black Jeopardy on the charts
Yeah, my life's pretty grand, I'm eatin' pretty good
Your girl in my mouth and she tastes like candy bars
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Come on, son, I'm right back with it, still
What you gon' do about it, nothin'?
The cream of the crop, still servin' these bitches
What you gon' do about it, nothin'?
Yes, yes, y'all, still servin' 'em raw
I was playin' with legos, now I'm servin' these bricks, boy
Still outta order, still the man on the border
And your girl keep my beef in her mouth like hamburger
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Eight hundred bodies
Casket juice splatter, the reaper’s my hype-man,
Ain’t no peace treaties when I’m grippin’ the pipe, man
Old-school venom, spit acid like “Yikes!”
Your squad’s all mannequins, stiff when the mic’s on.
Legacy gorilla, chest-thumpin’ the concrete,
Turn your block to a crime scene, then repeat…
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , Stackin’ eight hundred bodies, no coffin!
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , Glock talk in your ass, you know the protocol!
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , Murder in the children's morgue, Get the shovel!
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , You ain’t walkin’ out, dog—haha hahaha!
Decompose, when it comes to this rap, man, I be O.D. though
Lyrical pyrex, pyromaniac, that ain't a typo
Glock 9 give you a facelift like Michael
Son, I'm back with it, back spinnin', your girl's back in it
Back crackin' it, rap sassin' it, like "come back with it"
Old-school with it, the old dude with it
But still I crush you little babies and your whole crew with it
The old guard still playin' cards
Penny ante style, we the Black Jeopardy on the charts
Yeah, my life's pretty grand, I'm eatin' pretty good
Your girl in my mouth and she tastes like candy bars
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Come on, son, I'm right back with it, still
What you gon' do about it, nothin'?
The cream of the crop, still servin' these bitches
What you gon' do about it, nothin'?
Yes, yes, y'all, still servin' 'em raw
I was playin' with legos, now I'm servin' these bricks, boy
Still outta order, still the man on the border
And your girl keep my beef in her mouth like hamburger
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies
Eight hundred bodies
Casket juice splatter, the reaper’s my hype-man,
Ain’t no peace treaties when I’m grippin’ the pipe, man
Old-school venom, spit acid like “Yikes!”
Your squad’s all mannequins, stiff when the mic’s on.
Legacy gorilla, chest-thumpin’ the concrete,
Turn your block to a crime scene, then repeat…
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , Stackin’ eight hundred bodies, no coffin!
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , Glock talk in your ass, you know the protocol!
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , Murder in the children's morgue, Get the shovel!
("Murder in the children's morgue, eight hundred bodies") , You ain’t walkin’ out, dog—haha hahaha!