Pistola

I've been down in the dirt hustling with my cousin in the Hurst,

I know it hurts to become berserk but what do we deserve,

to be stuck in the lurch nah I consider myself a flirt,

but I need church to compare my soul to the curse,

my flesh rotten from the start oxytocin to my brain making me insane,

sitting on the perch ain't no parrot but I cant spit a few words to make you hurt,

sit you on the curb its a small world where the demons lurk,

the best dessert served cold like a dish best served hot but the recipe something

burst into flames from the stress of the church no I'm cursed with this curse to outdo my next verse

immersed to be burnt but I will return don't be concerned I come first before the second moon

of blood dispersed over the forehead of the ones baptised in church

take the plunge submerge yourself in your worth motherfuckers

bloodsuckers stationed at my suffering submerged in the blood of the lamb

goddamn I am the man but god damned my fangs sank into the goat of my past

now I'm looking back for answers I'm no gangsta but the message is backwards

I'ma bastard fuck your standards and factors of you rap fanatics Flanders

now im back with the candles for your bath tub lets get romantic,

im a savage but id bring you flowers, sour by the hour smoking fragrance

as the incense burns inhale the gun smoke and let the tears flow unable to pull the trigger

let the bigger nigger make the decision whether or not to finish a nigga

back scratch that back to candle wax and acid baths trapped with black

the Sabbath hat matches the black flag of you cabbage patch

trapped wax for candles of acid strapped with labs and macs for plastic bags

of hash and crack can you handle that