Bloody ink on my past spelled suicide,
Michael Jackson even passed could you scrutinize?
Fuck illuminati lies, sayin’lucified,
Baptised in the gutter, motherfucker you decide,
Cause the ride come with doors that be suicide?
Or the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized?
Good and bad happen, wars, nigga chose a side,
Now all hail to the Lord like you do to God,
Who am I?
Painting vivid pictures, call me Basquiat or Picasso,
Capo Head Hancho, now my followin’s colossal,
Ain’t no box of? but got the chooper thought of?
It’s like you heard, God spoke,
I’ve seen the ghetto gospel,
The? like my reefer and the preacher got my eyes low,
Shits to Mary Jane to make me see from? them high notes,
The bible or the rifle…goodbye folks.
Bloody ink on my pen spelled suicide,
Kurt Cobain even died could you scrutinize?
It’s a fine line between truth and lies,
Jesus Christ never lied, still was crucified,
That’s why I never judge another nigga,
Life’s a bitch, but that bitch in love with other niggas,
3-2 a bed, sheets, no covers nigga!
Dirty kitchen, no supper in the covers nigga,
Wassup my niggas,
So my new attitude is like Fuck the niggas!
I grew up with niggas,
But don’t fuck with niggas,
I don’t trust them niggas,
Ain’t got no love for niggas,
Had the gold grills shine like them southern niggas,
Kept it trilla, now the whole world fuckin’ with us!
Meanwhile you treated all of us like other niggas,
Now your world is in my palm, take cover niggas!
***Lyrics are from third-parties***