Fuck

Fuck, I might as well slip into life as we know it

We're far from the truth and the masses will show it

We're left to decay or we're left with these choices you put on yourself

Where will we run?

Where do we go when the timing is up?

I'd rather lay low and drift where the wind blows

My mind is a cellar, I'm missing my halo

I reap like tornadoes

Ayy, giving em all the wicked shit I spit into these verbals

When I rap it make a circle

So I take a severed head from the flock and then return

Upon a staff and get it cracking