I'm ill, they diagnosed me with a rare sickness
Bear witness,
I got it sewn like snitches' stitches
My story's something like rags to riches
Hosed with switches,
moving on my ops in the trenches
No further mentions, exorcisms
Demon time, rocking the crucifixion
Living ruthless with a rude conviction
Moving different, too intrinsic
To let these crabs dull my killer instinct
On point like an index finger with a smooth
distinction Maneuvering through all the chaos,
amplifies the symptoms
Art imitates life,
predictions from the Simpsons I done gambled in life,
watching the clips and glimpses
Cause you can lose it in a flash from those
cannon lenses Skillful in brandishing arms,
I'm sorta ambidextrous
Cause on the right night,
you could get left for something senseless
My taste for blood is relentless,
soon as you second guessing
I fumble right through your third eye,
full of cruel intention
I don't do the games,
nor do I do the fuckery You wanna feel the flames,
if it's up with me,
it's stuck with me
If you survive it sluggishly,
tell your ops,
come * with me An enemy of my enemy is my company
I don't do the games,
nor do I do the fuckery You wanna feel the flames,
if it's up with me,
it's stuck with me
If you survive it sluggishly,
tell your ops,
come * with me An enemy of my enemy is my company
Contemplating power movements,
terminating opponents Creating a lethal ambiance,
the hole where I bestow it
Some people will call it murderous,
others call it heroic Reaping the
stitches of my sewing kit at the moment
Life is feeble,
tunnel vision in the eye of a needle Pen game,
painting pictures,
rotting apples,
my easel
Passion of the Christ,
ice all on my Jim Caviezel Glock 17 tucked into my blue Avicil
So when it's up and stuck,
I let it pop like the Beatles When it's swore,
I get the grip in machines like Don Cheadle
Temperamental like a mafia guido Shave the coke like Piragua's,
I met in ghettos with guidos
The Don Dada of this bilingual flow,
y'all my hijos Low-key copy and paste and get off my bicho
I mix E&J with Bacardi and Marcoquito White Cove,
Guardian,
repping for Puerto Rico
I don't do the games,
nor do I do the fuckery You wanna feel the
flames if it's up with me and stuck with me
If you survive it sluckily,
tell your opps come * with me An enemy of my enemy is my company