Targeting drones looking for holy bones
If we ain't right and always at the throats
Now for a story of broken bones
Cause you must have known, i can't trust the phones
Muscle convulsions, pumped fulla lead
So if i do call it's just a check
Pulled in more directions than intersections, avoiding collisions, weak
I'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares i caught, go to sleep
I then gained a little muscle
No one notice your struggle
Lady at the frank stand will
Of which we lack muscle.
She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since
Let me twist your mind,and fuck it in all directions
Once considered a rogue, i was chilling alone
Upholstered with dead remnants of muscle and bone
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