Rick Rozz

Ambulance come, baggin' you up, you and your man sword fights
Smashin' your guts and stabbin' you up
Your life's a poor torture in the cut, war I play TEC games
Turn right slaves to urinals and fatties to catch fame
The Brown Bunny chicks pills in the arm
Every ounce of blood I spill is like a symbol to God
My visions is scarred, babysitter sniffin' the yard
You deep in the cause, project breads sick in the sauce
I'm harnessin' women with two TECs, drugs couples are arson
I'm Hunter Thompson, Night Stalker Manson in Carson
My advantage is nice and twice of a marksman
Nightvision lights in the brink of a stink in the carpet
Your innards are pink, bleedin', you're all labia
Whole Kasabian finish you pussies in Arabia
I'm too bowed in, my Goon's a mess hides in your couches
Choppin' you up, head not found, body in pouches