This is a song about "Thy art is murder"

Pick my enemies out the crowd, and motherfucker's die

Thy art is murder death is passion aline your heads on my

Dub a.l.e., such a son of a gun

Art is art, there ain't no comparison/

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

The art is razors, needles, and pins, syringes and comets,

(acapella)there is no art to find

Shit i'm lying too! told that bitch i love her for her mind

But i'm a hustler, in my heart, trapped is the game

And murder is all around us, why shouldn't i do the same

For the most part those blocks get bogart

My now bleeding heart, is now feeding art

Did you have fun?cause i'mma need a cab just to get me homemaybe you could call in sick

Don't wanna die but i thy and buy whatever is needed or what i have retreated