Tell the sheeple all flocked Got a shotgun cocked you can’t hide never put me under the influence again fuck lies/even the flys questionable/ trees shake with doubt when they look away/ captured in the techno like a beat from dead mouse only it’s dead house and technology is the word in the memo/remember it’s Yolo like wayne says maybe the 1 percent aware of this for sure says we/a pair of wits 2 better then none 1 isn’t better come up missing on the milk box run/ that’s why i’m strapped like saddled backs or bitches in grey shades but later get the bows read wow step with the real and authentic feel maybe you can tie the not as well/ hell maybe already here i know the rocks got heaters like my waist line speaker blair which l stare at all of em fuck the lot of ‘em/ cockin flicks like my dicks problem/solve em one day my divine approach is wait for the sign/ i’m here to challenge the quid pro quo in this life and the next/to my side my queen don’t need much more yadada seen/