Jack the Ripper vs Hannibal Lecter

Oi mate, pass the liquor, it's Jack the Ripper
I'm a human trigger warning, through the night until the morning
When the light shines upon my crimes, you find it sick, appalling
An infamous, notorious delinquent

There's little more gory a thing than
Living in Victorian England
This is horrorcore, beware if you're a common whore
Or at late night you may find me knocking on your door

Not keen to leave until I'm knee deep in blood and gore
Your grieving family on their knees, weeping, scrubbing floors
The police need a lead, they dunno what they're looking for
My raps are like the way I eat my meat, bloody raw

Jack, you're a classic megalomaniac
You haven't mentioned me once in your entire battle rap
Pity your verse wasn't worth a trip in the jacket
Quit jacking off on the track and put the lotion in the basket
And catch what the iller serial killer can deliver

Rhymes finer than the Chianti I would pair with your liver
But the thought of your putrid flesh makes me want to shiver
Cause your British body's covered in more piss than kitty litter
You stabbed women when they wouldn't give you attention
Like a Penny Dreadful version of OJ Simpson
But these days your nickname is all that's even known
And you didn't even come up with that shit on your own

I'm real! You'll find me making vacancies in brothels
While you only exist inside the pages of a novel
You were kept for ages in a hovel
Contained within a cage behind a locked door

While I never got caught
So who's the superior serial killer, Doctor Lecter?
I'm still wanted, you're forgotten
People these days are watching Dexter
So God protect ya from the hell I've spread upon us

No, no, Jack you were doing fine
Before your ham-fisted attempt at a terrorist line
How typical of Jack the Ripper to chase a headline
Pick Ray Liotta's brain and ask him how I get mine
I'm the bon vivant of violence, a licensed psychiatrist

Who dines on highest society to the sound of violins
Don't get me wrong, I'd roast both your balls on my hibachi
But for a serial killer, you're as tasteless as a bowl of Kashi
You prey on a prostitute and play with her body
I don't mind that you're naughty Jack, I hate that you're sloppy
Barney, take me back to solitary confinement
Cause this dirty little lamb has just been silenced

Who won?
Who's next?
You decide!
Eeeeeeeeeee



Credits
Writer(s): Peter Shukoff, Lloyd Leonard Ahlquist, Dante Michael Cimadamore
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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