Made You Look Lyrics

The Llama you came to drag me to Hell Demons attack where sanity dwell Humanity fell from the mouth of a ? profanity hill That was fist-raised jaggedy nail Illuminati grail, seven seal nations battle Gods with Devil’s ? Rebels sprayed by assassins with shells Crazy adolescents that kill, Mac 11’s and pills Everything William Cooper was talking about then is happening now Malachi York was way ahead of his time, truth is wild How both of them have been discredited and edited Yeah Nostradamus ? irrelevant There’s a reason it’s called programming propaganda loop Random truth, cannibal Xanadu, Channel 2 cameras who multiple panel view Jumping out of planes without a parachute Born with an attitude landing at ground zero latitude That dude got his head smashed in the door His bitch swore she ate Britney Spears’ p*ssy in the bathroom at Pure Attention whores always asking for more Sniff around on all fours acting like she wanna vacuum the floor A Suicide Girl into Charles Manson and porn She like Nas so she dance to this song, listen [Verse 2: Slaine] Yo my knuckles are sore from punching motherf*ckers in the jaw Ruin these jeans, slipping on a slippery floor They gave me four six figures and Syphilis sores Walking through the f*cking halls balls big as a horse Sniffing the raw, never made me different before Now I act like an asshole with the criminal thought I think when I drink I think I drink too much These cops always wanna watch me and clink me up Am I being paranoid? Do I think too much? While these pussies pushing me and being pink too much I’m a rebel on the rhythm swinging, sting you up Be careful and fearful of all the things you trust Y’all mixed race cats coming to my show shit-faced Come and get your face fixed, fix face mixtape All of y’all sucking on my hog, how my dick taste? Get your teeth displaced if my f*cking fist breaks I’mma beat you down with the elbow or Shelltoe Forehead, f*cking ?, who the hell knows? Broken cheeks, backbones, hip disc, crack phone You can’t even walk in the kitchen when you’re back home Imagine if you killed me just how pissed my villains be How many times your wife will be raped and where all your children be I’m a hundred percent, you’re a one in a million, G And you can’t f*ck with me or my DMS crew neither You’re too p*ssy and too beaver Get the f*ck out of here you, I’m done rapping you faggot motherf*ckers Get the f*ck out of here

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