I wanna never have birth and fail as a father. I would never want the illness that killed in my Nana

I talk alot about death so I should do it soon... Maybe under the cold breeze of a bluish moon

My whole persona is vodka bottles and marijuana The hope in Nana was rockin', inspired from my Mama

I had a void, God. Filled with whores & with blunts. I ain't have choice God I was born in the slums

I wanna never have birth and fail as a father. I would never want the illness that killed in my Nana

I hold the ratchet unorthodox. Pernell Whittaker, I'm duckin' all sorts of shots

I'm the god of war, the resurrector of the horror-core. The carnivore, destroying you wasn't hard at all