Cort I'll knock you dormant, karate chop your forehead
Palms are pourin, droppin hotter aqua than Bukakke porn
on this Goldilocks whose morbid after choppin down some toxic porridge
Lock your doors, I've got the caustic swords from God of War, Rockin Cort
He got more shots absorbed than the warped out boxed up porn his closets storing
Think I'm fallin forward and you droppin more with the top performance?
Logically that's not supported and you've got the odds contorted like koala orgies
And the quill of authors kill it's targets quickly like the flick of yarn
Depicted in the grips of archers slaughtering your empty accomplishments
You pretend to be honest, saw your flaws suspended in conscience
I dipped in Pandoras Box before invention of condoms, YOU KNOW ME!!
So, you're an OG in the streets huh?
Nose breathing that cheap junk that won't even get me buzzed??
You're the only dope fiend that I've seen who would OD in a key bump
Smoke reefer supreme to throw C over tree tops
|