| Hey yo the name is unchangeable, brain storm the universal
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| Chain gang slinging my veins, painting my verses
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| Strange stain paint on the page blazing the purple
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| Main dames holding my thang-thangs in their purses
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| Handcuffs to holding tanks, cages in Kirkland
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| Faces stay straight but inside they’re hurting
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| I rhyme for John J and the Crooked Line for certain
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| It’s been built from the ground up since a youngster with curfew
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| You rooftop hustlers scrambles to get the gamble
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| From dice rolls to blackjack to credit scandal
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| The knifepoint stuck to your chest, I run with the handle
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| If I’m damaged, I spit with a humpback like a camel
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| The pathological rhymesayer but I’m the greatest
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| The hidden message, unspoken word behind the pages
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| And many words are crazy, blessing to see the pesos
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| I’m a king cause I say so, wear a crown for my halo
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| Blades slice skin, this shit is a breeze like the nights wind
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| Never fight sin, spit out the horror to fright men
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| The lightning hits the rooftop, we don’t stop
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| Gun’s cocked, return me to Satan with one shot
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| A drugging motherfucker, destroy a goon’s beef
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| From the dirty south, thieves stomp your face into the streets
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| A living abortion, my riddle with vivid cultures of death
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| And destruction, fucking belittle bitches with horse dicks
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| I’ve lost it, exhausted, the Devil’s darkened my forces
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| Blood is gorgeous, especially yours but on the porches
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| And doors of all who worship the light
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| I bring the of torture at night
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| My evil forces hold my sources of glorious fright
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| My brain’s sick, heart’s dead, eyes red
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| Putting you weak motherfuckers to bed
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| Big sleep where the pigs eat, get chewed up like Wrigley
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| Roll to Philly, fog up the lab with Dr. Illby
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| We smash you, you think you nuts homie? |
| They call me cashew
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| I blast you, rigor mortis stiff, froze like a statue
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| The last dude you ever wanna fuck with, I run this
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| Kills abundant, Lucifer’s wrath is felt among us |