(Verse 1: ?)
I look over yonder and what do I see?
All of my n***as with Glocks around me
Visions of Psalm 23rd in my head
Though I walk through the valley with my infrared
Where do you run, where do you hide
It's gonna be a homicide
N***as laying on the curbs, bodies all in plastic bags
Why do I walk away and hit the whips and let my khakis sag
They say, a life is a terrible thing to waste
Do you mind if I stick my hand in your guts and tell you how your intestines tastes?
N***as think I'm friendly, no, I'm not
Pop goes the Glock, bystanders get shot
You smoking rocks, no I ain't my n***a just reality
N***as are constantly asking me, where I put their bodies G
Pumping, filling, the body up with lead
How you gonna kill me when I'm already dead?
Watching head, I guess I'll begin to fucking slaughter
Murdering, mothers, fathers, daughters
Son of a bitch it's, not hard to die
Why oh why must I feed you to the flies
Higher than the clouds because I'm out of the atmosphere
Pass the razorblade and bumping "Hear my Dear"
Fear no other man on this planet
Having crazy dreams, I'm losing it, goddammit
I got to hold on to reality because reality got a hold on me
(Verse 2: Lil' Grimm)
You look into my eyes, then my eyes got you dazed
You roam into my skull, you'll be trapped into my maze
Caught by the reaper so keep a n***a deeper
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Creepin' on that other level, have you ever met the Devil
Suicidal ghostwriter, bustas make me use my 7
Digging holes for you bitches mind --------
Seven bodies dead without the heads hung in my garage
Having bad dreams so I jump out my bed and snap
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------------------, reading through them evil scripts
Do you hear that noise I hear?
Cast a spell you disappear, runnin' through the mist and fog
Fall into the yellow brick road where your soul is taken on your bliss
It's ice cold, bustas can you ------ this shit
Mind lurking with the torture
Take your body to the ground give it to the vulture
The doctors got no medicine, the cure is fucking panic
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Look up in the sky
I'm so glad I cannot see reality got a hold on me since like Chi-Chi

(Verse 3)
Lord bless me for every sin I committed
Who did the murder who did the murder, I did it
Why did I do it, the Devil told me so
Mommy, daddy, Devil don't wanna let me go
My neighbors tell me "hey man get a grip"
But every time I grab a n***as bound to fuckin' slip
But every time I drop a busta down I ask why?
Pass my Philly blunt and dip it in formaldehyde
And maybe it's the dope that got me clickin'
And maybe it's the coke that got me trippin'
I don't give a fuck I guess I'll let it ride
I go up outta my truck and grab my nickel plated nine
Nobody understands, get them demons offa me
Reality got a hold on tree, pass the P!