On some honest shit? Some Gothic shit? God exists, and I popped her lips with my dick. She was in the cockpit, driving a n***a straight to the stars. Then I did something straight up bizarre. Let them guys with eyelids peep my blueprints. BUT I WASN'T EVEN MOVING! Why am I taking the blame? How am I breaking the game? I'm just being me. My charm. My personality. My right arm ain't got a Pink Panther. But I'm still hurting battles with each drop that I give the beat. Hip-hop gotta listen to me. 'Cause it's not pop. The shit is free

Give your praise to The Lord
Then give praise up to 4
There is more
There is more
Hallelujah!

Grandmaster Hamilton! Stand back while I masturbate on this track! Hold up! I zipped up my sack. So, any bad bitch, come and get that! Rockin' the UFOs like SEGA. Bayonetta, play with forever with me. May I rest in your kidney as Hennessey. Forever we can get so deadly, Miss Me. Because you miss me, Mrs. Me. And you're missing me with your missles. Can you be Mrs. Mrs. Me? Married to the Mrs. Me that I dropped before I missed thee with the missle that I kiss thee with. Idiot is how I describe me, but you kiss my lips

Give your praise to The Lord
Then give praise up to 4
There is more
There is more
Hallelujah!

I make God bite her bottom lip. Thinkin' 'bout me when I get on top of it. She obviously is attracted, but lately I been into magick. And she is seeming as if she got to have it. And if I'm magick, damn. I had it. I just wanna smash it. Fall back from it. It got chapped lips. I'm fuckin' with you. (looks at Satan) You gotta bite your bottom lip, too. Because I gotta get with you, my boo! My voodoo is painless. I'm too true with my stainless. Blasting from my 9 on the mic. And cats gotta design in their mind what kind of 9 that they like when it's blasted at them. Faggot ass cats can't rap again

Give your praise to The Lord
Then give praise up to 4
There is more
There is more
Hallelujah!