Jesus Dabs

Yo, lemme tell you 'bout this ninja, see? Not your average shadow-steppin' G. Name's Davshinobi, but call him "Chronic Saint," 'Cause he's blowin' clouds, where others just faint. Eyes red, not from cryin', but the chronic haze, He pulls a rig, in a spiritual daze. Sticky icky, shatter, wax, and bud, One hit, and he's talkin' straight to God. "Lord, bless this dab, this potent extract," He whispers low, before the sneak attack. Enemies laugh, "A stoner? What a joke!" Then Dabshinobi exhales, a holy, hazy smoke. Coughin' fits, they chokin', lungs combustin', Holy terpenes, their souls he's trustin'. Not to hell, but heaven, a righteous burn, With every exhale, a wicked lesson learned. Kunai dipped in distillate, a divine sting, Jesus on his side, hear the church bells ring. Shadows creepin', whispers in the night, "Repent, you sinners, bathed in holy light!" Dab-a-doo-ya, enemies turn to dust, Inhale the spirit, in the Lord we trust. Sticky palms, and a righteous rage, Dabshinobi comin', turnin' a new page. They thought he was weak, a cloud-chasing fool, But he's a weapon, divinely cruel. A righteous assassin, with a dab in his hand, Deliverin' justice, across the land. Yeah, dabshinobi... Chronic Saint... Blowin' clouds... repent... . Jesus... dabs...