Holy smoke...let me get my composure right... This felt so wrong like a 2020 bad bite.. Hold up..I’m not here for a fight.. But it’s a slaughter house when I sleep with a mask on at night.. Ok easy chump I get it...the bars is high I set up standard one so the glock just slide.. Pop a shell?..what I mean is the safe on lock still?.. Go for the kill..really tho they just stuck on quarantine feels.. Feel me tho?...Fucc ya feelin’ I’m back to steal ya field.. This ain’t baseball tho but I’m back to bats ya grill.. Ok far fetch..I get it..like seeing lines and etch.. I’m not really myself but still I kill all ya shiet.. ***** keep yapping and watch the mask Comes off..u be in the casket... So no telling this is face off.. I ain’t hitting right but I’m still reachin ya.. Ur’re still short sighted like it’s a blinded lights.. This ain’t pink Floyd but u still gotta respect that neck boy.. Ok..I’m getting coy..lets start the looting.. When I see window breaks n scramble eggs I’mma start shootin’ Maybe it ain’t the time for that.. But I ain’t got no cops in the chop zone.. So they start popin’ kats.. This is lawlessness prophecy playing out in biblical rap It’s a wrap most y’all kat still lost in the bag.. I reach in my bag..got u hefty carried heavy in the bag.. I ain’t slackin bytch I got ya draggin body in the bag.. U Tom da Don?...but still a bytch in that bag.. I ain’t talkin fag but u still get smoke for that.. I might still be reachin but ur soul ain’t far to grab.. I burn a bytch like u fast like the whole city is going mad!!