[Verse 1]
2005's monologues, ski masks and Suburbans
I mastered the art, I'm a sick bastard with nurses and surgeons
Platinum hearses, the new jacks attached to the cervix
Blaming God founded Hashem or get clapped in service
Glenwood Projects, cases and guns, safes and drugs
No escape from pain in the world
The hood it bottles it up
You called us dirt hoppers, gangsta, homie
It's therapy music, fucking you up
Personality switchin' like Kobe
Young soldier, pulling Soviets and MAC-11's
I never liked church
I burnt it to the ground with the reverend
Tribute to Heaven
Desert Eagle stuffed in the covers
Don't make me shoot
I feel guilty it'll pass for the others

Chorus (made with cuts):
"I be Gore-texing to death"
Goretex: "Brooklyn's bed is on the street"
"Obvious that I was destined to rep"

[Verse 2]
Pipe bomb the priest, if fire starts, I'll martyr the genius
Jihad Allah, torture devices call for human excrement
My goons are the future, streets faze me, chain in the buck
Corrupt, I never trust a moss, I spilled your hatred with love
Oprah part porn stars they take a ride in the car
Married bitches take it right in the jaw like I'm a fucking Czar
We movin' smack rap to sesame bagels
Get yo' recipe, body parts sent in an apartment in Vegas
Catching vapors, griding for paper, I long for the savior
Graveyards on project halls, shootin' up walls with lasers
Experiments to regiment for all my newest disciples
Teaching the seeds how to strip flesh and break apart rifles
Chorus (made with cuts):
"I be Gore-texing to death"
Goretex: "Brooklyn's bed is on the street"
"Obvious that I was destined to rep"

[Verse 3]
Teenage lapdogs who front drugs their mom's been called
Blowjob mouth, she swallow it like Molly Ringwald
Chicks on the dean list gettin' choked with phone cords
The celebrity mold, Ayatollah falls, approach war
I'm the omnipresence, stolen energy in the desert
If I die in a plane, you fuckers better know it's a setup
Suburban fishtail, CIA watchin' the kids' mail
Home in the chrome's on, fuckin' with blondes in pigtails
I turn clits to putty, quick to burn hits to money
Sunset Strip, with Nikki Sixx natural bunnies
Ain't nobody's pickin' you up, you rhymin' all mussy
Hippy rap, what the fuck is evil about you cryin' pussy?

Chorus (made with cuts):
"I be Gore-Texing to death"
Goretex: "Brooklyn's bed is on the street"
"Obvious that I was destined to rep"