This microphone explode, shattering
The molds
Ya eighter drop tha hits like de la o or get tha
Fuck off tha commode
Wit tha sure shot, sure ta make tha
Bodies drop
Drop an don't copy yo, don't call this
A co-opt
Terror rains drenchin', quenchin' tha thirst of
Tha power dons
That five sided fist-a-gon
Tha rotten sore on the face of mother earth gets
Bigger
Tha triggers cold empty ya purse
They rally round tha family
With pockets full of shells
Weapons not food, not homes, not shoes
Not need, just feed tha war canibal animal
I walk tha corner to tha rubble that used to be a
