The Evening Service

What is happeningggg...

Too much dampening

On these sad beats with more pads than ink

So I attack the strings

As you bow to the heir

a hair’s

breadth away

from gripping the bow stick

and shoving the whole tip

down your F hole bitch

ah fiddlesticks

who’ll get that re-fer-ence

It aint meant for simps

But my sons will stretch their necks for it

Like a baby bird begging for some sustenance

before I kick them out the nest (umph)

till their aint none left

Yeah you can call me a dick but it’s bye bye birdy

And all you trike dykes

I know you heard me

As you try to take flight but kick up dirt cheap

As you hit the earth going max Travelocity

[hook]

Continue learning from this sermon and by verse three you might be worthy to maybe curse me

But you’ll never hurt me cause even on a terse beat I got enough wording to dish you another serving then leave like just desserting

I can’t determine why I wanna keep these bodies burning

But for certain I desire a pyre for everyone who’s thirsty for syrup mixed with codeine

Yeah I’m a dope fiend without the coke weed

And even if I don’t speak

I’d still be considered the cho-king

Like Carradine on a dope beat

They say actions

speak louder than words

So when I say fuck you

i’m flipping the bird

like brit chicks

before 94

You say you’re pimpin’

Learn some new verbs

Always late with a term

kinda like your birth

Proves you were being killed

before you hit the earth

Now here comes the fini-

sher not so delicious when I administer the final rights at 29 but fate is blind and I dare to play satan when day turns to night

Fuck a hook you’re gonna take this right

Like an uppercut from the side

Cause it’s do or die

I never lose so why

You wanna prove that I’m

The guy

Who’s the reason for your suicide

The undisputable when it comes to producing funerals

I’ll still be juvenile when I’m like 82 and so I’ll be exhuming all the zoomers in the future just to remind them that the feeling is mutual

It’s the end of the rhyme so as usual it’s time

[2:32]

To spit and split syllables

drop bombs little boy

I’m lit who’s gonna be the first to git it no misgivins

I’m simply not stopping it’s not possible stop your nonsense hoe

fuck the obstacles I’m illogical Nas-togical

not nominal atomical while you’re armed with pharmalogicals

but can’t stay topical a lotta bull can’t top my arsenal of harming words

cause I got the balls to make a whole song canonical

raising every follicle when I follow ya

spit like a tommy gun while ominous I’m all in this acropolis like a dominus

promising a lotta drama when I turn on ya like Dahmer

they’ll have found ya in the sauna along with sons and daughters

they won’t say I never brought it gonna stain this whole carpet like a brain met a parti-

san, call me the scarlet charlatan cause I’ll be covered in blood and high on tonic when

I bludgeon a harlequin armed with a volume of hooked on phonics

kinda ironic but I rock onyx nice ice call it mnemonic

once I don it I’ll be the king of targets but I want it cause I’m starvin’ and I’ve barely even started

so all you artists you’re my garden and it’s time to harvest.