candypaint bullets make ya paint drip
got you thinkin bout that language every cain grip
where ur going theres no plane trip, just angels
halos, harps playing for singles
im darker than black marker
the boogyman from a rap author
bad karma, meet me and die
i have to slice my fuckin wrists just to keep me alive
no pound, to survive you have to meet me with five
heat by your side, si tambien en fuego
your bullets go through me like a pen through play-dooh
okay bro, keep bustin at me
trust me papi
ill hook you up with a Heaven Star bright enough to make Justin happy
fuck this crappy world i belong to
fuck rap and fuck songs too
all the shit on the shelf used to be live like Hong Kongs food
now niggas get in this life for the wrong move
strong dude turned money maker
tryin to bring they sunny flavor to the undertaker
thinkin your skills are anywhere near mine on a mic is reachin
son, would you like a beatin?
trust, you wont see me in that dark night like Michael Keaton
watch this Joker pop up and appear with a bat
here with a rap to clear out these superheros of rap