Murder money marks your hands
Blood stained is your soul
If only I could make you feel the pain of every life you’ve enslaved
Watch the life fall from your eyes
The pleasure would be mine
For your vile Injustice on mankind
Won’t stop till you're wrapped in plastic
Dead in a ditch, body without a casket
Spreading your disease
Preying on the weaker
World gets sicker
And I can’t wait to watch you fall
Now you pay
Murda Money
Northeast straight-edge hardcore taken to the cathartic, infectious extreme; a fiery EP fueled by spite, spirit, and sick riffs. Bandcamp New & Notable May 24, 2023
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