Nephilim Takes Flight

Spitting seven-six-two's, I'm Dragunov

Turn your insides to Beef Straganoff

Russian manufactured guns that's what they pass me off

With this immaculate pen, took less than nine months for this conception again

This tale had it's genesis in severing man from sin

Might take me several years to make amends with him

I feel me falling like a Nephilim, on my back it's wings with no clear span like I never knew the full extent of my flight plan

Hoping for love on the land of sin

Thug love, gangsta love, you gotta find it within

Club soda and Cranberry, I mix it with the Gin

Voicing my sober thoughts on who might be pulling strings and playing them like violins