Lyrics Culture Of Death - 7L & Esoteric, Esoteric, Jus Allah

Culture Of Death

What I hold in my hand could fold a frying pan
The air and sand do as I command
And if I want the night to last
Across the sky vast
The clouds won’t even allow light to pass
My group leave alien loops inside grass
Roll trees and Dutchmas',
A must-have
Like my dagger and cloak
And red streaks of blood on my white labcoat
A virgin first vote to give her her first poke
She crept over to my crib after church broke
Since we ain’t spoke, but I hit it dumb ways
The unshaved
Some days I don’t bathe
Unphased by the light and the scorching flame
While tears fall from the ice dripping off ya brain
Even if you cry it won’t soften the pain
Your is dead, you should go and get your coffin framed