| One fallen angel make over mankind and fuck with a mass mind
|
| The cross breeders rap, I’m a psychopath landmine
|
| The unstable, unbreakable, strike fatal
|
| The sick stick together like NATO
|
| One-eight-oh degrees, he’s now state-owned
|
| Lost in the city of angels with no halo
|
| It’s Hades on the surface, best to just stay low
|
| I’m like Hell on Earth while I’m under snake scales
|
| The sick-minded aligned with cliques drowned with
|
| Shots round with, brown fellows click Brownings
|
| Cops sounding sirens to get loud and
|
| Watch your back cause it could happen to you
|
| From the cradle to the grave with a shoe
|
| The psyche of the street remains in the brain of the LA zoo
|
| Crooked cops and the government set the blueprint
|
| For the gunmen, the black in the SA Coupe
|
| It’s the life of the trife, cross and get your wig spliced
|
| Meet Christ when you crap dice
|
| Drag my angel dust fights so my mind don’t think twice
|
| A journey in a mental street life
|
| They’ve been predicting the end of time for thousands of years now
|
| Chaos is all they sponsor, the monster serving their God
|
| Abominations of God, monster on the versus the occupation
|
| We wanna bring change but can’t really change ourselves
|
| In Hell we live no matter how much wealth you got
|
| Hope, that’s been forgot
|
| The big plot is taking place in our face, we all robots
|
| My thoughts I’ve been given in the streets, my gun
|
| That’s my religion, it protects and provides me vision
|
| It inspires and preach, keep it all at peace
|
| Meanwhile they all make loot for the beast
|
| There’s got to be a better way, a better day ahead
|
| Not a horrible death to men
|
| We have an army of soldiers and generals sin
|
| By the great mystery to protect what’s left
|
| It’s a race against time in these days we living
|
| Trying to keep my mind right, trying to stay out the prison
|
| They got us digging our own hole, sacrificing our own soul
|
| When 99.9 don’t know how it all goes
|
| I’m in that .1 percent fighting back control
|
| Thief planet, fist up ready to roll
|
| No, I won’t fold, bend, and break
|
| I know the shifts shape, they really snakes when the doors is closed
|
| Keep my head on a swivel, always watch for foes
|
| Homies say I’m p-noid cause I’m always ready
|
| For situations that cause me to react deadly
|
| What I spit to these melodies is written in stone
|
| Far from a clone, I’m in a frequency of my own
|
| Where few men have travelled is where I call home
|
| In my whole different zone where niggas stay drunk off rum and get blown |