Stepped right into form
You could feel the essence
Of the oath that he had sworn
Torn from his eternal presence
Sort to fork up your intestines
Fought to forge his independence
Play the back
Type to sleigh a track with masked and armored henchmen
Got a gold magnum bolt action flow
That’ll soul clap n’ throat gag a whole faction cold
Then he’ll toe tag em
Don’t grab him
Old fashioned cloak wrapped
The phantom of the oaks back
Descending through the smoke on a ghost stallion
Mic that summon Shiva
And his wifey look like Xena
Keep a heater for the reaper bust a funky cold Medina
Motherfuck a feature, he don’t wanna meet em
Chuck the crust n eat em, Pressin him for dough as if he need em
They can suck a penis
Huntin season; demons up in trees and that's the reason he can’t trust em
If they need it uppercut em through the fuckin ceilin
Fuck around
Catch a body
Ask him to dumb it down
Better ask somebody
See him makin rounds through your town like he was a Gotti
And he breakin sounds with the hounds like he something godly
He been known a minute where the real power’s at
Always had a knack to point an index finger where the cowards at
Had to hack, machete action tat
Caption that, back in black
Best believe the casket match
You asked for that
Plaster cast a sucker for runnin his beak
Straight out the jungle with blood on his teeth
And he’s tempted
Never pretended fuck sendin a message
He bussem leave one in the cheek
Fuck with the chief you’ll be slumpin on ice for a week
If you buggin you suckin the deet
Love in the streets
Where none of you fuckers’ll be
Better be runnin from him
Better be runnin from me