Police wonder, when will it all end?
How many more children will collapse
and die in a hail of gunfire?
And how many more little ones
will witness and learn?
It's the
Mr.
Unholy
Sinister
Man, I'm
Mervy, your minister,
Mervy
Moe
Niggas talkin' jobs and
Jeff
Finister
When it's the
Prime
Minister, grand dragon body baggin'
The 4 -4 max still got
my pants saggin'
Niggas on the bandwagon
say they suicide -driven
For the unforgiving,
these dead flowers ain't living
Psycho like no other motherfucker, so
Go outside your cranium
dome with the chrome
I'm sick of all these suckers,
my mind spinning in swirls
Impregnate your body with slugs
and murder the world
Therapeutic,
they connected when bullets ejected
They concluded it wasn't
expected for my ass to shoot it
I'm a son of a gun,
I swallow bullets for fun
My daddy with a gun,
powder shit, call me holotip
Little slug hate, life living ain't no love
I ain't no heart in my body
So I'm quick to pull the shot of
John
Gotti
And murder your body foul
Stack a body pile
Mama, I murdered your child
in the midnight hours
Smoking no dead flowers, my
Glock stays so hot
It's a bit fire in the red beam
Make you scream like
Michael
Myers, retire
Your life just expired, I'm repossessing
Got caught with intent to deliv
er a drug possession
No question,
I'm playing true confessions
I'm evil with the steel
I shoot the cone and let him
know I'm gone
Psychotic, real life product
We play for keeps, symptoms,
I'm insane
Murder your ass in your sleep
No therapy, so I'm out to
murder all of y 'all
Mental migraine still gon' lock
Tylenol
So now I'm out to destroy any
nigga who wanna annoy me
Cause I'm down with dead boy
Carbon copy ass motherfuckin'
ass niggas
Back the fuck up bitches
Yeah, I'm comin' through this bitch
Yeah, what up, nig gas
I got this motherfuckin'
steel dick for your ass
I don't really wanna feel like I feel but to still
be calling my name and it's a shame
Bloody butcher knife still
buried in my backyard
Mental flashbacks of how
my knuckles got scarred
Niggas be smiling in my face
and backstabbing
Even though they know
I'm bullet buzzin'
and gun grabbin'
Die, die, die,
U -N -H -O -L -Y
Toe tag to body bag, your momma cry
Born into this life,
no escapes from player hates
Down to stack papers,
goin' psycho like
Norman
Bates
Real life, real life, yellin',
police rebellin'
Steel talkin', broken
English, and drug sellin'
Oak choppin', hip hoppin',
nigga with a death wish
Money and power ,
pissin' on dead flowers and
There are more flowers than there
is apparently room at the altar
There are more questions than
any of us can understand
In the service, the priest urged the
parents to find their comfort in
God, because all
those many questions have no answers.