Yeah, yeah, fuck outta here (Yeah)

I'll smoke you all (Out the lake house)

Hahahahahaha

Pieces of shit, man, we all scum

Ayo (Out the tree line, pshh)

Progresso Esquire (Native)

J23

Blak Church, we're gonna do this shit

Yo, yeah, yo (Yo)

As Earth rot, no rubber, God's infected (Pshh)

A fullborn (what), plus locker-headed (Yeah)

Tongue polyps, blotter bedded

Awkward, not worth mentioned (Not worth mentioned, come on, man)

I'll kill a prostitute then hawk her pendant (What the fuck?)

Merch from Corsican buyers, I'm off with it

I swear I smoke these kids, like orphanage fires (Yeah)

Urinatin' blood on Horrorcore's block

Stalkin' you flatliner fans still howlin' "Warlock" (Warlock)

Dumpin' gore thots, and keepin' the door knocks

You can't see me (what?), I be mainlinin' Clorox (Yeah)

Handsome, duckin' into the cop car, handcuffed

Plus I got no structure, it's all tantrums (Yeah)

Ketacet and moon rock (word), I'm not weird

You cats are square, like dead kittens, in a shoe box

Volcano god, shit I'm touchin' is lava

With the white girl fucked up 'cause I'm in love with the Fonda

Percocet, crushed up in a Fanta

My fetti shit (nah), Chloroform and trap queens like Fetty did

I write my last flow then go out like Freddie Prinze (Come on, man, you're wack)

One evening, there was a terrible storm, it was thunder, and lightning, and the rain poured down in torrents, indeed it was a drip all night

In the middle of the storm, somebody knocked at the town building, the Old King himself went to open it

He was in a terrible state from the rain and the storm

Fuck gettin' these last, Roxies off, I'mma pop these all (Yeah)

Dope bars still crack lookin' like chopped broccoli chalk (Ayo!)

Sun hat by the bocce courts

Ungodly, sniffin' spirit cooked, body salts

Went through a zombie toss

Flow hardbody, Hillary Clinton

Baby blood, Hibachi sauce (Brain)

Brain of a cat, salt from the bath

Eyes of a new, ambidextrous bipolar

Two diagnosed spittin', styles in two's

I split, any style in two

I'm vile (yeah), sick, from a virus with suits

I collect old heads like I'm Paki

Geotrack me; I be with my bitch smokin', droppets and Hashish

Out on Skorpios like, Aristotle and Jacqueline

Idiot, savant, avant-garde, I'm not a latch-key

Cigarette from the morgue form holy smoke (Shh)

It's braggadocio, restroom Romeo

Picked out two teens, from Holly Oak

Once I dipped the Rollie-o, I turn, Cornholio