Budapest
My mind's a dark place, sinister like Darth Vader's image -
Heartache & bitterness, s'why I spark grape Swishers; every bar's straight vicious
It's ball game, nigga... harder than takin a shot of malt-grade vinegar
A long-range hit put you in harm's way w/ John Wayne's pistols
Turn you to farm-raised shark bait quicker than Baraka w/ his claws aimed
Stickin those sharp blades into ya scarred frame, doin his Arcade signature boss stage finisher
Your standalone idol, w/ a HAMR scope on the plasma-bolt rifle
Fuck a Swag & Flow title, I'm Captain Cold on a nandrolone cycle
Not a chance you won't die; the canonized author, I glamorize war like Samurai swords
Entranced by the gore & can't fight the glory; we strategize slaughter for campfire stories
Vampire offspring, hold a hammer like Thor & a hatchet like Voorhees...
Rapid-fire force feed you slugs in a black & white short-sleeve Polo w/ the patternized horse scheme
Carnivore, study the Art Of War daily - every harmless thought's like a horrorcore rape scene
High & wreckless, my life's directed by Martin Scorsese
Cybernetic, like Ghost in the Shell or the rifle when I load it w/ 12
Toast in the belt blow you to Hell when you catch No. 5, no Coco Chanel
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Even signing my autograph’s like writing a slaughter pact
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