My blood G cold, never seen my dad cry. And I'm a bleed your block til the cash dry!

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

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

The half moon on the bank of the river's devotion. That's the stab wound, born from the killer emotion

They say I drink too much... The only problem that I have is that I THINK TOO MUCH!

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