willing a destruction onto humanity

hotboxing the whip with piff from the ziplock

guns come from big lots

blunts from the quick stop

scheming on a plot trying to rob mr. big shot

strip you for your little chip of the rock

stay equipped with the glocks

you left for dead sifting through rocks

gave your girlfriend my dick in a box

all the dirt i got on my hands i should have rocks in my wristwatch

but i pick glocks over chocolates in the gift box

chase you down the staircase

pop you in the lobby

feed you hot slugs

each shot is a hot tamale

spot where we put the bodies is hot as the mojave

probably time to find a new hobby

before cops is sending out the bloodhounds

rounding up the posse

reckless niggas with more records than disc jockeys

play their records on cnn and hard copy

play the part where they show the heart in the autopsy

everyone of you is alive

your death has got nothing to do with it. you already survived many deaths

but you don't know anything about it. how much have you learned in this life?

how much have you truly learned that makes a difference?

i'm a motherfucking headhunter

a cold winter to a dead summer

doesn't matter the weather

i'm still a lead-dumper

you can find the fucking body in the red dumpster

20+ years

cousin couldn't dead hunger

see it's the gutter that i rap

i nickname gats

they my butterfly effect

the boxcutter or the tec

some of my brothers is on their deen

some of them provide the wet

and some of them provide the birdos

jail motherfuckers that'll buck you on their furlough

i run through a wall

never heard of hurdles

manos de piedra

i'm roberto

you a fucking herb though

i've been getting money since my third show

my new kel-tec is berzerko

only smoke the purple

y'all just fucking stand around in circles

me and jus allah controversial