it's funerals when i invade zones, suckers get bucked with guns
i'll pull out 'deserts and storm' your hood to leave you covered in dust like one
this pussy aint bout that gangsta life, he'll get split with honed cleavers
i walk the talk, got that Cred with RealSpit, you're just the bitch they both ethered
so many face punches got your nostrils bleeding, i'm known to slay bums
feel the pain son, i'll have so much plasma coming out of that nose than rayguns
my savage deeds got coroners loathing, stab these dweeb till organs are showing
spill his guts out, we'll see more Blast issues than magazines reporting explosions
you know i roll with the glock to leave you six feet deep, expect cessation
keep claiming you're a beast and that heat will put you to sleep like estivation
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