Nicotine, magma, grenadine asthma, amber wreaths wrapped up
The wrath of the masters who never need gallop - always on the trot
Let's blame the Paleocene after the dinosaur bones rot
I'm in a Rent-A-Car, zone bloc, the blockade's code locked
As the zombies roam lots with the Pompeii loan sharks
Soirees of ash fixate upon the stovetop -
One glance at the face in the frying pan, it's ya modern day Rors***h
Consolidate more glocks. this beast's a rare machine
A disaster prepper's wet dream & archetypal kerosene
When short term survival takes the cake, the far sighted merely gleams
A cleric Baron bares his teeth, cleaves a hairless breed
Burnt down that church but the parish team was family
I gave an Indian an Indian giver & a paraplegic Cherokee
Now we're both stuck in parallel universes, tying moccasins in reverse
The White Man would strike lands, and arrows would fly
And guns would get yapping - crimson eyelids like a terrorist's high
There's a black liquid mixed in with my blood. Won't explain heroin's rise
but it could provide insight into why Venom was an arrogant guy
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