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Bloody ink on my past spelled suicide,
Michael Jackson even passed could you scrutinize?
**** illuminati lies, sayin’lucified,
Baptised in the gutter, ************ you decide,
Cause the ride come with doors that be suicide?
Or the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized?
Good and bad happen, wars, ***** chose a side,
Now all hail to the Lord like you do to God,
Who am I?
Lord Flacko,
Painting vivid pictures, call me Basquiat or Picasso,
Capo Head Hancho, now my followin’s colossal,
Ain’t no box of? but got the chooper thought of?
It’s like you heard, God spoke,
I’ve seen the ghetto gospel,
The? like my reefer and the preacher got my eyes low,
Shits to Mary Jane to make me see from? them high notes,
The bible or the rifle…goodbye folks.
Bloody ink on my pen spelled suicide,
Kurt Cobain even died could you scrutinize?
It’s a fine line between truth and lies,
Jesus Christ never lied, still was crucified,
That’s why I never judge another *****,
Life’s a *****, but that ***** in love with other ******,
3-2 a bed, sheets, no covers *****!
Dirty kitchen, no supper in the covers *****,
Sucker ******,
Wassup my ******,
So my new attitude is like **** the ******!
I grew up with ******,
But don’t **** with ******,
I don’t trust them ******,
Ain’t got no love for ******,
Had the gold grills shine like them southern ******,
Kept it trilla, now the whole world ******’ with us!
Meanwhile you treated all of us like other ******,
Now your world is in my palm, take cover ******!
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