Akin to Brandon Lee in the crow

Nothing to lose homie

I'm gung-ho

Feel like three ten to Yuma

Russell Crowe

No one really know me homie

I'm a ghost

Production immaculate

Three crows

That's the culprit

Neurodivergent

My brain an arena

That's hard to quiet

Hella' Racket in my attic

Havin trouble

Tryna unpack it

Hella' judgement came from people like a pulpit

Washed my hands clean of these morons

Like Pontius Pilate

Retrieval of self

From the rubble of facade

Scrutiny came my way

More than any kind of applause

Feel like the chaperone for my own demise

These lyrics that I spit

Are not a disguise

Just another entity going through entropy

I am the black sheep

An after thought of everybody

Blast me

Don't ask me

Why you had to pass me off as a bad piece of work

I feel sadly

Non sympathetic

Fuck apologetic

Feelings are joke when you judge me as pathetic

Throw me for a loop

Think you know the truth

Try to make a claim against my mother fuckin' troop

Three fuckin' crows that flew the chicken coop

Hunting for a punk mother fucker on the stoop

This is just another crows anthem

Another mine waiting

Gaz and Dot had to plant um'

Lyrics are exploding from the brain

Hear the shrapnel

Mother fuckers try to talk shit then we nab um'

Lastly I don't give a fuck what happens

Leave me in a ditch dead in a dark casket

Call me crazy case

I'm a basket

Cause I don't give a fuck what you pussies gotta say

Ya I've mother fuckin' had it

Killer image drippin' from the top

Holes in my head

Black Ink in my skin

Images of the dead

Despite what you see

There's a mind of a G

Fuck it I'm a say it

G A Z

You be fucking with the realest

Matter of fact

Keep your two cents

Hold your breath

Don't forget to exhale

Better yet

Suck up the negative shit in your mouth

Choke on it

No way to let it all out

Maybe next time think before you feeling all stout

Motherfucker was an outlaw

Hands cuffed

Riding in the back of cop cars

Flip the script

Twelve years

Six figures

That's a trip

Life long mentors even had their doubts on

Your only enemy isn't me

Exquisitely said

I rose from the dead

With a corpse and my crows

Murderin' in the grove

When the fucking foes

Start droppin' to the floor

That's your cue to turn around and go

Fuck it

I wet you up

Thinking I won't

Conversations been had

And the judgement is doom

Cut myself from the womb

The fuck you thinking I do

Mother fuck you

And your punk friends too

Three crows cawin' at the bag filled with bad shit

8corpses slide out the back with the hatchet

Silly mother fuckers over the top

You're a spastic

Ain't no one killing shit the way we do

No open casket

Lend all my achievement to the man who not facetious

Passed the big three oh and never felt more like breathing

Can't fuck it up

Stand with no crutch

I never know when to give up

My site is set and definitely

The boys and me to the end

Three O D