today i feel like putting a gun to my temple
colt .45 ravaged my cranium only so i don't have to go to temple
no more sins i need to have confessed
polished sleek glock; my prayer ejected through the chamber
PULL THE TRIGGER -- FUCKN PULL IT MAN!!
hold on, the last time i come to terms with contraband
am i filled with love,  joy, despair or anger?
all i need is my reverend spirit to unclothe its self
i no longer succumb to the falsity of needing to have impressed


cut the gesture man
you just be playing chicken
but when i quit playing
you'll hear me squawk
one shot you'll know i've been stricken
farmer Joe tell him this is his last wake-up call
and that bright light in the mornin bruh
we all know sunrises don't last for a split second  


POP! muuu fckkkaaa