[Intro]

Crazy rhythm, they want effects, so effects is what we givin' [?]

[Verse 1: The R.O.C]

The black magic, my doll's trouble, a voodoo and wicked spells

I do all my scales on my brain bleeds bloody tales

Twisted tombs for many acts with a swingin' axe

Attacks any person that moves for or steps back

Relax, motherfuckers, the secrets lie on the souls that weep

Creep, so deep, it's fallin' way under nine feet

Have entrance to walk through my home sweet home

With fires burnin', you're yearnin' for another House of Krazees song

The R.O.C that is me, I'm takin' you on a trip

My nuts still draggin' like a ball and chain, my dick's the whip

You can't hide and you can't run from the sons of guns

That had yo ass screamin' look who's on the run

Come and get some of this, but watch yo shit

The clock has finally struck the hour for the killings, bitch

There's no illusions, just realism, the effects

All are tragic when you try to deal with 'em, I wig split 'em

Stick a, stick a nigga, boom click boom

I broke ya neck, who's next for the FX?

[Chorus]

FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX

FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX

(You want effects, so effects is what we givin')

[Verse 2: Mr. Bones]

Its the year, the year that we droppin' bombs

Feel the calm of fuckin' and sing along

With the jam, the minute you want to see

Mr. Bones, I pack the capacity

Lyrical style playing yo eardrums for a second

With the effects to break your necks with the wicked

Beats and drums surround and the fuckin' rhythm

Fatal thoughts of suicide is what Im givin'

To the migraine explodes on the track

In the night the demon was on yo back

Break it down, you're very well

Mental running in overdrive sacrifice on the hill

Listen close as Bones begins to wreck

And watch yo ass for the wicked ass FX

[Chorus]

FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX

FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX, FX

(You want effects, so effects is what we givin')

[Verse 3: Hektic]

Mass illusionist, something extraordinarily strange

Home on deranged, you thought you could hang

You smell the blood of an [?] mental case

The time is now for you to try and leave this place

You turn the corner, unning down the hallway you see a door

You think it's nothing, you open it and fall right through the floor

There's no escape, and so live and let live

Begone, my spiritual anguish, won't even test the hellish spawn

My testimony sparks the hatred from you bastages

Wickedly macking I leave yo ass in bandages

[So whip yo rooster?] then leavin' with some broke necks

You can't fuck with the flicks check the FX