whoop whoop

okay, check it, let me start by asking this question,

lets see if you all agree with me , when i leave nobodys guessing

i came in the game with a bloody face complained about possession

and im stuck with a voice inside my brain telling me to go and set shit

on fire, on fire, this pen became my lighter

i'll prolly be this way until the day that i retire

till then i hold my hatchet high, i dont try to be a mastermind

only half the man im gonna be when im kicking back in the afterlife

and im drinking rape martinis with jesus and eazy e

itll be so breezy, swear to god this shit is too easy for me

the monster of the game and i came to play with a book of matches

with crooked tactics to have you mother fuckers looking backwards

and my modified persona online is like hooking catfish

cause im rapping with an accent that people mistook for blackness

and all these antics that im using bruising peoples egos

to me though isn't just evil it's a prequel to the sequel

the prophet of the booth and im dropping news on the common youth

just like mocking two cockatoos on the loose to pay homage to

and that dont even make sense, cause im loaning my paychecks

to a homeless dude thats going through some shit like a trainwreck

 

 

you can chalk up the dueces, cause im just constantly moving

up to the point where im not losing , still a awkwardly nuisance

that keeps on confusing losers cause of my auspicious movement

making monsters out of humans,man, how the fuck can i do this?

you ask? wearing a duplicate mask, fearing no future or past

tearing the lubricant fast while fucking this beautiful ass

chick that came home from my show, says shes been feeling my flow,

yet has no fucking clue about all the lengths that im willing to go

to keep this monster tucked in the deepest parts of my mind,

but this bitch is biting on my neck, its getting harder to hide

he's gonna take over soon, i have no control,

this situation will be outta hand, you better be goin

you said you can handle darkness, you said you can handle heartless,

you said you wouldnt get attached, now attached to your carpets

your bits of skull and brains are scattered throughout your apartment

with the F.B.I. just naming me their primary target