[Hook]

Pillar of salt on my wounds that won't heal

Imma bite the hand that feeds and make that my meal

You'll be prayin and kneelin before this is over

Fuck a chip, got a whole bag of lays on my shoulder

[Verse 1]

Fuck rose colored glasses i'm still seeing all red

And my homies disappear whenever i take my meds

Fuck missin my shot, ill go for the head

Period, full stop, your dumb ass is DEAAAD

My patience bout as fuckin small as a gnat

I swing like a madman whenever i'm at the bat

Talkin out your ass I'll put your head on the plat

The global elites are hiding the world is flat (wait, wait)

Let's get this straight you little jackass donkеy

You bouta get stomped by a mad ass honky

The way i'm punchin thе wall like some kind of whack ass rocky

They try to fit me in a box like we're playing *clack clack* hockey

I ask for a reason

You tell me that that's why

You're changing your stories like you're livin a past life

Y'all bullshittin bitches can't keep up with your past lies

Is your head just too big to remember your cap size? (Damn)

[Verse 2]

Friends they switchin like why do they do this

Some of my homies be Brute and Judas

You still wonder why i do this, you doofus

I just scream til my rudeness the crudest

I spit excuses like i spit up mucus

You tell me to stop but your words they are useless 

I'll say what i want, it's my fuckin music

I let it all out like i'm some kind of nudist (ew)

I've been procrastinating can't jump my hurdles 

Can't finish my milk before that shit curdles 

I try to write it's like i'm runnin in circles

Scribbled so much in my notepad and journals

My good ideas hiding like they're some kind of turtles

Then I clench my fists til my fingers turn purple 

I'm playing chess, you're catatonic 

Not even to checkers, you're stuck in a socket

I'm out of pocket, you can swim in my vomit

I'm feeling atomic if i'm being honest

Jonathan Osterman Manhattan Project 

I'm going up to the top anabolic 

I cannot stop it you cannot top it

You couldn't even fit my motherfuckin pic in a locket

Somewhere between Davy and Betty Crockett 

I'll cook you up and wear your head as a top'at

[Hook]

Pillar of salt on my wounds that won't heal

Imma bite the hand that feeds and make that my meal

You'll be prayin and kneelin before this is over

Fuck a chip, got a whole bag of lays on my shoulder

YEAH

Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds