Death in LA Pt. 1

I've opened up like Christ with no comparison The prairie bad is back the Moodie Black to lap the fairer skin Terror mirror dap the nap of scarring flat Americans and ripping at the hides to push the arrows in Opposite of flicks that kiss the bitch and fist the pussy in Rarely represented by your hawking bearded-charlatans Carry rich in leather skin-ded vulture hide defy the Powdered west the powered death in no resign to rape the holes I find BIIIIITCH Best father noise amongst the boys of noise of unemployed devoid of modern ploys Of goth appearance toys You're going past a friendship to a fuckin app to help you black and peddle past the very tribes that came Before your deathing, accomplished Your PR, the balding money burning purse the purring earth that put your first The monster curse the native worst the Fake Four the other black the dollars ain't proper The co-signs are scary, equipment's on fire... SOME DEATH IN LA So we can sit around and talk about pussy And bang all these photographers to prove things Bitch I'm up in Paris too somewhere dark and pagan worn Wearing Levi holy black, borrowing your summer flat Independent povered rich, human clothing barely fits Plain inane the pains of freedom plains across my elder veins the same It's like I'll never rot. I am all you never not Fade away and sway to pave the way to lay the faders off. Call me black What the crow you people think? Death grips? Ratking? Choking on a fracking pill Kerosene flat screens the terror bad, I'm on my own hide terrified Compare me to the desert drones in lo-fi... fuck 'em all I'll shove the barrel in your eyes away from arrows. I'm intimidating size and heavy marrow I sleep like all the others, but hunt with empty fist and barely parish while the masses Probably know they shouldn't eat me SOME DEATH IN LA As I was born naked running pairing adolescence climbing up the EL PASO difference, rock fence The valley vultured out and kicked me further west before the ocean in the middle of coyotes I learned how to talk fast and drum on things to capture what had mattered to the person that I barely had control of. I danced on top of planks of feathered humans to a mass that wouldn't want me And I yelled at them for wearing plastic clothing Abandoned to the middle of the country where I yelled at them of parodies and ruffled those who probably wouldn't want me Although I was a crow of bad precision spreading out across the planet, back in Paris where they barely spoke my language I cut my talons off and back to cacti where the fairest can't compare me and the dust is just as much me as the flowers But unfinished ego has my farming bad. I laid it on the six dark, these people that don't want me gotta choke me