Bloody ink on my pad spelled suicide
Michael Jackson even passed cause you scrutinized
Fuck illuminati lies, say I'm lucified
Baptised in the gutter, motherfucker you decide
Cause the ride come with doors that be suicide?
Or the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized?
Good and bad happen, wars, nigga chose a side
Now all hail to the Lord like you do to God
Who am I? Lord Flacko
Painting vivid pictures, call me Basquiat Picasso
Capo Head Hancho, now my following's colossal
Ain't no boxer, Pacquiao, but got the chopper en todo caso
It's like you heard, God spoke
I've seen the ghetto gospel
The choir like my reefer and the preacher got my eyes low
Shits to Mary Jane to make me see from singing high notes
The bible or the rifle...goodnight folks
Bloody ink on my pen spelled suicide
Kurt Cobain even died cause you scrutinize
It's a fine line between truth and lies
Jesus Christ never lied, still was cruci
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