You're not on my level

I'm bringing the shovel

I'm stealing your bezel

I'm stealing your bezel

I know i need treatment

Chop you up into pieces

Mix you in with the cement

No demon

No demon

Just come from the slums

The home of hookers, junkies, bums

Here we are we're all best chums

Don't need to worry about no guns

Just hands to hands and knives, knives

We go silent, silent

Middle fingers up to the police

Middle fingers up to everyone who doubted

It's the suicidal goons, bet you we are fucking clouded, clouded

We come after your clique like we have got no fucking purpose

Can only run 4 blocks though i smoke too many cigarettes

Made some bad choices

Made some good choices

Mainly bad choices

I think i'm getting better at this rap shit you know

It's weird i'm just styling on the beat and shit

But i'm making it work out, making it work out

Making it work out, making it work out

Hardly speak english

It's not a brain thing, i just have a lot of struggles

With my brain

Like i'm not slow at all but like

Every time i try to like string a sentence on the go

It's like i'm just putting pieces together in a puzzle

Takes me a minute to find where each word goes

Had to think out this whole sentence out before i even started talking, like man it's hard

It's why i pause so much, it's why i can't come up with a fast flow fill and shit

It's really that simple