
I send in vile acoclytes,
attack it right, then sacrifice
I pack it right, attack
till the back is sliced, a packaged knife
is latched to my back of ice
the maggots diced, when I clack it right
do you even understand, nigga, gun triggas,
will split ya, with bar liquor,
flows vary like star sectors
I'm the cost of the demons inside
I'm the boss that's eager to die
even if I'm number 2, I am prime inside
so why does that even matter if I wanna go and ride or die
My rhyme is high
strong enough to make aphrodite's hymen dry
rip your face; eye to eye
inside your lies,
rip apart your brain's linings wide
and kill you with your own eyes of god