Bloody ink on my pad spelled “suicide”
Michael Jackson even passed ’cause you scrutinized
Fuck Illuminati lies, say I’m lucified
Baptised in the gutter, motherfucker you decide
‘Cause the ride come with doors that be suicide?
Or the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized?
Good and bad having wars. Nigga, choose a side
Now all hail to the Lord like you do to God
Who am I? Lord Flacko
Painting vivid pictures. Call me Basquiat Picasso
Capo Head Hancho, now my following’s colossal
Ain’t no boxer, Pacquiao, but got the chopper todo caso
It’s like you heard God spoke
I’ve seen the ghetto gospel
The choir like my reefer
And the preacher got my eyes low
Sister Mary Jane could make me see from singing high notes
The Bible or the rifle.
Good night, folks
Bloody ink on my pen spelled “suicide”
Kurt Cobain even died ’cause you scrutinize
It’s a fine line between truth and lies
Jesus Christ never lied. Still was crucified
That’s why I never judge another nigga
Life’s a bitch, but that bitch in love with other niggas
Three to a bed, sheets, no covers, nigga
Dirty kitchen, no supper in the cupboards, nigga
Sucker niggas. What’s up with niggas?
So my new attitude is like “Fuck the niggas!”
I grew up with niggas but don’t fuck with niggas
I don’t trust them niggas, ain’t got no love for niggas
Had the gold grills shining like them southern niggas
Kept it trilla, now the whole world fuckin’ with us
Meanwhile you treated all of us like other niggas
Now your world is in my palm. Take cover, niggas
I shall ever fall, Lord, pick me up
Ever since a baby, two twos and sippy cups
Ever since them diapers and my zip-me-ups
Now, I’m walking on my own. Y’all, wish me luck
Where do we lie?
Tell me where do we stand?
Where do we go?
It’s all part of the plan
Where do we lie?
Tell me where do we stand?
Where do we go?
It’s all part of the plan
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