Verse 1 Raps Phil Spector Always in black with the funeral director Glenwood Projects recroom, got twenty goons in butcher sweaters I never shake Potato on the barrel, its safe My kerosene best in Brooklyn, no jakes, snitches Ill hit your wakes Stakes are high Got no more time to be wasting upstate Got nine inch twelve pellets per cartridge, black partridge I leave you to fate Bouquet of flowers shipped to your wake Children of Doom, we break that coke down with the paste Im too ferocious Anybody seeing me senseless Since park benches and dead lieutenants And soldiers screaming for vengeance I flood the hood with sedatives Schemes and Edward Kempers Felonies in bagel stores, you can find me where the hemp is Timbs got blood on them from the park like Jenni Levin Henny, DMT in the coup, Carcass and Def Leppard Hook Modern network Drug farmers, Satan worshipers Trap Metal, project goons, young murderers Young gentlemen, muzzle loaders, coke burglars Boars Head, FEMA fatigues, all services X2 Verse 2 Head bangers who pump rock, you bow to get your sherm on I got some ugly bitches for sale to, like Sandra Bernhard Born certified, murder guys, way to work inside Toxicologist, feel special cuz youre the first to die Dune buggies, Farragut Road like its a catacomb Tuna casseroles, coke slings, Im baby McEnroe Playing god Its after macabre, officer massacre Sprayed his badge, next to his brains, give me a spatula Berkowitz flow, I do it when Im serving that snow Murking the coast, working that toast FBI found on ready post Mausoleum status, check the second roast I came from nothing, I got nothing, I stop your pulse Turn your body to a corpse, behind the wall of sleep Cauldrons elite, got Hebrew killers storming to eat Hook Modern network Drug farmers, Satan worshipers Trap Metal, project goons, young murderers Young gentlemen, muzzle loaders, coke burglars Boars Head, FEMA fatigues, all services X2 Verse 3 Live off the interest of two mil, from groovy pills Turn bitches to mummies, I take their checks and leave em nill Cats play me too close, youre light in the loafers Let me check your glucose, too much sugar up in your fucking toasters Glenwood Projects tradition Born killers, no religion Five fifty Benz, no friends, goon business New additions, I heard being broke is a superstition Since I seen the ghost in the kitchen, taught me the most conviction Hook Modern network Drug farmers, Satan worshipers Trap Metal, project goons, young murderers Young gentlemen, muzzle loaders, coke burglars Boars Head, FEMA fatigues, all services X2
worshiper, goon, loader, boar, project