Bigots eye me like I'm holding a gun, I'm pinching pennies
Like stripper buns, a fist of ones confirms I'm schizophrenic.
I'm convinced this shyt is tennis, everything is racketed.
All my shyt is passionate, told it's hits I'm lacking in.
But I'm Barry taking your base on HGH.
Hot Garbage Hunter, born in July but at war with summers.
It don't explore the come up, it just exploits the harvest.
I prefer that cold snap, wolf hide around my collar.
I'm determined to strangle serpents while forcing the game clean like drinking detergent.
The beats are my purpose, the streets' screams are urgent.
Doc the Shadow King, please pull that sword up out the rock.
To empower teens, Zionists devour queens.
Ruling over Carthage while their lovers beg for pardons.
Under the heel of the Romans, to his children he's a martyr.
Women treat me like I'm Christ, then I guess Nasir's The Father.
Illmatic's the Holy Spirit, can't no villains pierce my armor.
I'm taking cues from Aubrey like fukk it, my mother's struggling.
Cuff a grip, fukk a bytch, make enough currency to turn Republican.
Who is this sport played for?
My dream was killed at 22, nikkas need I say more?
Chewing and digesting steel plate doors like "I am God, nikka!"
With methods like a tetrapod, nikka
nikkas buying sections, used to envy y'all nikkas.
Then I rose from the swamps to kill the demigod killers.
