At (S), Charles Hamilton, Jr
At (E), Jack Splash - I won't reveal your middle name
At (G) George Massa - I see you, Antoinette
Time to do it like the (A)...
My suicidal ways been moving out the way. The brewing, I can say anything. As long as I can stir it like a witch. Permanent psychic shit. Word that I can spit is gospel like. Except when I got the mic I'm the gothic type. God exists or I'm a queer. Said that quite clear, my baby mama. Clear indeed, but queer is taking over this heresy. God, forgive me for my homosexual acts. Pretty much all I ask for. Let me get an axe, I'll chop a cat with a glass jaw. And not have to come back after all. I don't need no Adderall. Just mad at the wall, while them cats want to brawl
My problem is I don't believe in God
How can I believe in God?
My number ain't odd, why believe in God?
So, do you believe in God?
Language got me spanking niggas who be copying me like they're Gotti's. And I ain't talking about my nigga John, or my nigga John. Just them niggas on the Island who watch me, watch Harlem World, watch B-K, watch Queens and say, "I gotta be like these people." Those people... The B-X know, saying those people are so evil. And they're righteous with guns. So they are the righteous ones. Rotten pieces like a white chick's baby father when he didn't write his thesis. Maybe honor is just denying the secret that God is my baby mama. And I ain't in people. And I am the evil-est. Except when I get tested, then I become the feeblest
My problem is I don't believe in God
How can I believe in God?
My number ain't odd, why believe in God?
So, do you believe in God?
God, I can't deny my 6 any longer. People who have apples are saying "Sticks!" And the song is over. So the word that you're giving me inside has to be a prophesy. Of which I can prophe-psy and say, "It's out of my mind, today." Because of my indiscriminative ways. The 'I' in indiscriminative, but I should give a shit when it's time to give it to the Him who's been eyeing my eyes, and saying when I'm in a rhythm I'm getting it in. My God, I'm speaking in tongues again. Must be the wine I wish to sip. And if I dine as a 6, would I be making your cry and ball up a fist to say, "This guys is no longer in this shit." You walls. Christianity, Masonic. Either way, it's me
At (E), Jack Splash - I won't reveal your middle name
At (G) George Massa - I see you, Antoinette
Time to do it like the (A)...
My suicidal ways been moving out the way. The brewing, I can say anything. As long as I can stir it like a witch. Permanent psychic shit. Word that I can spit is gospel like. Except when I got the mic I'm the gothic type. God exists or I'm a queer. Said that quite clear, my baby mama. Clear indeed, but queer is taking over this heresy. God, forgive me for my homosexual acts. Pretty much all I ask for. Let me get an axe, I'll chop a cat with a glass jaw. And not have to come back after all. I don't need no Adderall. Just mad at the wall, while them cats want to brawl
My problem is I don't believe in God
How can I believe in God?
My number ain't odd, why believe in God?
So, do you believe in God?
Language got me spanking niggas who be copying me like they're Gotti's. And I ain't talking about my nigga John, or my nigga John. Just them niggas on the Island who watch me, watch Harlem World, watch B-K, watch Queens and say, "I gotta be like these people." Those people... The B-X know, saying those people are so evil. And they're righteous with guns. So they are the righteous ones. Rotten pieces like a white chick's baby father when he didn't write his thesis. Maybe honor is just denying the secret that God is my baby mama. And I ain't in people. And I am the evil-est. Except when I get tested, then I become the feeblest
My problem is I don't believe in God
How can I believe in God?
My number ain't odd, why believe in God?
So, do you believe in God?
God, I can't deny my 6 any longer. People who have apples are saying "Sticks!" And the song is over. So the word that you're giving me inside has to be a prophesy. Of which I can prophe-psy and say, "It's out of my mind, today." Because of my indiscriminative ways. The 'I' in indiscriminative, but I should give a shit when it's time to give it to the Him who's been eyeing my eyes, and saying when I'm in a rhythm I'm getting it in. My God, I'm speaking in tongues again. Must be the wine I wish to sip. And if I dine as a 6, would I be making your cry and ball up a fist to say, "This guys is no longer in this shit." You walls. Christianity, Masonic. Either way, it's me
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