Soul Snatchin'

[AeroFX]

not the type of dude you used to,
killing it dead like bird flu,
the weed will see me off 'fo you do,
rapping circles around clowns,
now they confused like i speak in voodoo,
i get the paper, despite me having a screw loose,
i'll blow your cover on this shit,
so this an open casket,
grab the hatchet, the petrol and matches,
i dont knock, break the latches,
bitches call the police to send a task with,
heavy artillery on i match it,
soul snatchin, while the reapers still got his slippers on,
more green than Chateau de Maisons lawn,
theres nothing wrong, aero the don,
you know,
a lil crack here, crack there,
cracked windscreen, interior red,
malace minus conscience equals bloodshead,
instead, of allowing you inbred,
underfed, animal sex,
obsessed fiends to take a breath,
i burn down your shed with you in there,
dont you see, i dont care,
i dont fight fair, a living nightmare,
me see defeat is quite rare,
fear me like the house of wax chair,
yeah,