Beekeeper

Buzzing like you're the man,

but that hype you got is false positivity.

Bruh, you've got to be kidding me.

Stepping to the warlord and get your ass smoked,

leaving these junkies itching for some nicotine.

 

I'm the beekeeper,

stabbing you with a rusty nail right in ya diseased peepers.

Godlike, but I occasionally ponder if I need Jesus.

I eat unique creatures, you're just a snack to this giant.

So, it's best that you don't act so defiant.

Or an oversized backhand'll leave ya flying.

I cross oceans by building my bridges on life buoys with cantilevers.

You're a seething leech, I'll mash you under the my heel of my boot.

Then, I'll feed my demons with a couple gallons of ether,

some mescaline pellets and a dozen pounds of reefer.

I'm hitting you with the villainous truth,

have you ever been so high that you were feeling the roof?

Then woke up and realized,

that you were still chilling in the telephone booth.

You think you know what hell is,

but I walk through lava with no shoes.

Floating along the depth charges,

dip my head beneath the waves just to hear the boom.

When I kill my enemy and the law comes,

my story is corroborated and justified by every man in the room.

You're an interesting specimen of a hesitant epithet spitting thespian.

I enjoy looking at your misshapened chest and interesting neck,

every time I go to the zoo.

Let's face it you're not a bee meister,

you're just a queen who sucks three dicks

every time I write a new tune.