Gun clown shoot little carry and dumb
*** want on the earth in a burial ground
Some sep woke more a old skeleton town
Some acting like *** mine and so
The wicked *** still scorning *** out
*** get caught in the gods
They'll kill you and drink your blood
*** fight against simple love
No why, no need to annoy
So many cry, so many die
Shoot *** jugs and *** rum vire
Lots of fun try
Man a brag bout gun size, skills and gun price
Man bore up dumb guys
Shinks and gun flies
Like Tartars and Sunstrife
Man bleaching scum vibe
No flex life
Jay Bruce, Simpson and Edward
Who fighting against each other while *** drinking from the said mug
No care to feel high
Night and day *** shed blood
How could a bald tail rust hard red blood
In a shallow grave, *** go find another dead dog
Far from where they on, where his foot and where his head was
And some flies swarming his remains like a dead bug
How *** they think that the CIA and the feds love people
Crying cold
Poor Lord
Y'all are not proud
The system is a fraud
The children *** must starve
To watch mob and graveyard
Burn gun dog, fire gun frog
The wicked should know
They can't stop fire when from shining
What is to be, will be
And they'll see in due timing
Big machine with banana clip
That gun clone
A muggle funk and a wit
Witch lunatic
Put my dick
Fan gun drama it
It own a dog
Friends invade the place and corner it
Put him choss in a hole
I a know it all a stick
Him draw fi ice pick
And all three star a cheat
He was looking for a box
Star a kick
Him get bullet
I'll do him ball out
Fim mother and him father quick
Well watch out
Bundung all gun shops melt up all guns
Make more bitch and tear baby wrong was long
I no care bout filthy priest
I learn *** blood thirst
And team *** want the senselessness
We're done
Watch out
Dirty wicked carry the weapon pan di ballroom
Start dirty game and then
Burn the mask as done
Watch him a laugh and a run as if it's all fun
Pan it own a sword it fall down
Crying out for lord
Yard and a broad
Said the system is a fraud
People *** a starve
To what mob and graveyard
Burn gun dog, fire gun frog
The wicked should know
They can't stop fusion from shining
What is to be will be
And they'll see in due timing
Them still scorn in the mud
Get caught in the drug
They'll kill you and drink your blood
Fight against simple love
No why
No need to annoy
So many cry
So many die
To *** jugs and *** rum vibe
Lot of gun drives
Man a brag bout gun size
Skills and gun price
Born bull rock tongue guys
Chinks and gun prize
Like daughters and sons tribe
Born bleaching scum vibe
No flex life
Bruce, Jay, Simpson and Edward
Who fighting against each other
While *** drinking from the sled
Mum no care to have the life
Night and day *** shed blood
Put the pallet
Rust or dead blood
In a shallow grave
*** go find another dead dog
Far from where they on
Where is foot and where is Edward
On some place
Swam in his own name
He's like a dead bug
See that
Had *** the thing that they see
I hear on the feds of people
Crying for the lord
Yard and a broad
Said the system is a fraud
People *** must stuff
Too much mud
And graveyard
Born gone dark
Fireborn fraud