Текст песни
Tat on my neck, pain deep in my chest,
I was born for the war, I don’t aim for the vest.
Skull full of demons, I don’t never get rest,
Run up on me wrong, put your fate to the test
Drugs in the baggie, the devil in my palm,
Fiends hit the line, now they singin’ psalms.
Smoke in my lungs, got the reaper in my soul,
Raised in the filth where the murder rate grow.
Click-clack, bang, let it echo through the block,
Grew up where the heart stop, bodies in the lot.
Hollow tips rain like a storm from the Glock,
Dirty South tales, blood stains on the rock
Halo on my head
But demon deep in
Manifest
Ima mess
I try to pretend
Ain’t no way around
Or out of my head
So repressed
I’ll confess
I rest
My sacraments
Mask on my face
The master of blend
Disguise
In your eyes
An angel weeping
Tears and the blood
Of Christ
That was shed
Sacrifice
In the night
A knife across chest
Blood spill dripping
On da cement
Let it rest
To possess
Unholy unblessed
Fear in their eyes
And couldn’t digest
The event
In the shed
It was off the head
And everybody knows
What piggy pig did
Squealing all damn day
Acting like I forget
Chainsaw hand
Boom stick full of lead
Ima skin your flesh
While you dangling from the legs
Settled up in the sky I gotta fly yeah I been high
Putin a pound in the stye never go tie when I just fry
Get me a win know I been on the top with the haze
Never gon stop with the craze I been outta my mind
Still smokin that pine yeah
Come with the killer know that’s how it goes
I’m schemin on ways to go get to the money and profit off pullin a bundle of dros
Cash it be comin it’s under my nose
I gotta keep me a bunch
I could be drrillin a 3 it’s no chillin in me when it comes to the killin in time of the crunch
