[Verse 1]
Oi, off my head I’m off my meds
Lost in the depth of nah it can’t be said
Coz shardy heads they want bars instead
So I’m calm as death coming for the masters neck
Got gats then pull it stake outs in bushes
Don’t act like we wouldn’t and stop bashing up your cushions
Get crack like wood fuck the bags of choof
I want bands so I’m breaking down grams of boobs
Stop lagging ya faggot
Every time that you could’ve you had and
I guess that proves you’re a maggot
I smoke blueberry cabbage
I ain’t new to the language my dudes’ll do you for damage and a couple of Q’s in the package more than the average
Kickin’ back with Spanian if you’re rude you get left in the canyon
The drama is savage but it has to happen
I mean it’s pretty tragic in fact
I’d rather be smokin’ cones in the back of the flats than tryna
Cope with my own soul digging’ my own hole
I thought shit was picture perfect but that don’t help
Nah, no that don’t help
I thought shit was picture perfect but that don’t help

[Verse 2]
The evaluation of psychotic attitude and bad background
I remember the first time that I got hit and I backed down
It ate me up inside for like a week until I sat down
Made a pact to just attack so it’s natural for me to snap now
I was the kid you only seen between boys homes and therapy
I was the kid that Pearl Jam sang about in Jeremy
The difference between your dislikes and hate for your enemy the same entity but what the snakes stays mistakin’ as empathy
I pay homage to all of the voices and all that is said
It’s not my choices i see monsters I see all that is dead
ALLAHU AKBAR I saw on your neck I’ma fall on my meds
He lay me in the guillotine boy I go offa my head
I uphold the old scrolls the foretold soul controller bipolar cold vulture that stole the souls out of soldiers
Face it blatant hatreds contagious and painful and dangerous
It take it in wages I pray full of rage coz I came from the cages
And I don’t pay for these fucking sluts times are tough
I’ve been in so many battles my knifes getting blunt
And I’ve never been touched It was easy when I cocked the 50
Your crew was singing out for treaty like Yofu Yindi
It’s simple though
I get the feeling you’re singlog on triple 0 it’s not an issue
Hit or miss I’m increasing the pistols blow
Little by little the things that I scribble sink into riddles I form ballistic missiles stickin’ up middle fingers wit’ Lil Sknow
And in my spare thoughts I tear whores and wreck jaws
I just sit there with the piece on me like chess boards
Fuck this Insatagram rappin’ I should be on Best Gore
And I’m known for puttin’ dogs on show like a pet store