Hell’s Carol - Intellectual

[Chorus]

Bitch, I am on ten, this ain't no

Game, I'm not your fan, you should know

Hop's back in here, stay packin' heat

You runnin' shit, not actually

These niggas can't pull off what I

Do up in this booth, I am too

Rude when I intrude on you

Don't act like you never knew, homie, I

Spent most of my life tryna get

Here, do not get near, you gon' feel

Fear in its worst form when I'm destroying you

I'm warning you

[Verse]

Murder

Straight out the insane asylum

What the fuck am I? Just think about it, can't define it

Say goodbye to any nigga you was vibin' with

I fuckin' hate the climate

I've been on your trail like an invasive pirate, makin' riots

Y'all can never slay Goliath

I've been taking rappers and creatin' diets

Now they on the 'Gram tryna make it private

Hoping I don't put 'em in a bad position

They've been prayin' I don't ever catch 'em slippin' (Haha)

You could build a buzz rappin' sick shit

But you better not come around me actin' different (Bitch)

I've been lost on the path of sinnin'

I just hope the Lord's gonna have forgiveness (Sorry)

Keep your mind out my bag 'o' 'bidness

Else me and you gon' have a bad collision (Oh, no)

Ain't giving a fuck, adrenaline rush (Low-pro)

When hittin' 'em up, you niggas are lunch (For sure)

A cynical nut, I'm finna get buck (Hoes know)

They feelin' in love, my menacin' touch

I have 'em flyin' overseas, cryin' over me

I am openly a cunt to 'em

See, if I enroll the D, I am gon' unleash a giant load of cream on to 'em (Mm)

Look, I ain't a typical nigga you dealin' with, this shit is finna get rowdy, I swear to God it is a must (Yeah, yeah)

I've been a militant minor degenerate ever since I was a little kid playin' and kickin' the mud (Yeah, yeah)

I'm a phenomenon, no telling who I'ma bomb when I hop on a song

I'ma lose it, it's written in blood (Yeah, yeah)

Honestly, I done got everything I ever wanted, but is it enough? (Is it enough?)

You're mad 'cause your fans ain't as loyal

Dropping classics again, wrecking on you

Damn it, man, get the body bag

There is too much madness at hand, weighin' on you

K.O.-in' niggas with the blow

Suck my dick under the mistletoe

Don't forget the balls, lick 'em both

This is Sicko Mode level, Travis isn't gettin' on because