This is a song about "Psalm 121"

You'll still find someone, somewhere criticizing him.

Everybody finger point in your direction

The door crack, niggas all black

Despising him, no need to fall back.

I'm the lost son of god in the new page of psalm

When big lips is in the attic armed with an addict's arm

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

Through troubled times, i find ease with my maker

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

Word to the wise, peace to the narrator.

Let's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom

You better remain calm for main terror psalm

Uprise with in and advise ya friends.

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments