Blast boutta

Blast boutta turn my corner

Chip on my shoulder

You mad cause your soul ain't born yet

Keep on imploring

I know- in my words im boring

Youll get to know it

I hate cuz i ain't been shown it

I then foreclose it

Them sounds written in the blood

Not from no mud

Alas we meet in hell

Ripped out your skull

Bitch

Such a dirty word

But im free as a bird

I know whats said been heard

Its dirty like my shirt