Intro:
Yea.
G-Mo Skee.
(Laughing)
Filth City!

Hook:
I told y’all I would be the man.
Now I’m finna show y’all all my evil plans.
I been going so hard you can’t see me fam.
Bitch I’m finna smoke y'all with my evil plans.
X2

Verse1:

This aint a rap this a Ritualistic sacrifice.
But when it comes to rapping right, I nail it like the hands of Christ.
A million niggas marching down your street like the actor strike.
Throwing your going away party to the afterlife.

A soul eater. I use to scare my old teachers.
They asked what I wanna be when I grow up. A cult leader.
Throat skeeter, going inside her pussy with four fingers.
Reeking of roadkill and I’m hoping it wont linger.

Fuck the sweet talk, my heart needs to defrost.
G-Mo Skee raw like a uncooked meatball.
Im A1, the rest of y'all weak sauce.
Your favorite rapper is catty, he wit Puff Daddy having a freak off.

I am nothing normal, I can summon portals.
Cut Unicorn’s throat, drink his blood and become immortal.
Im coming towards you and I promise I got something for you.
I will leave a motherfucker boiled in a drum of oil.

Im not a song writer, Im a Rottweiler.
You gone see a nigga act an animal, Rob Schneider.
Took my hat off, that shit is crawling with small spiders.
Treat a man like NBA Jam, he’s on fire.

Never say my name, take the advice.
Your furniture will levitate if you say it precise.
Tell Marshall Applewhite I said thanks for the Nikes/
I survived Heaven’s Gate I wasn't drinking it right/

I hope you in shape 'cause you might, get chased with a knife.
Until you sprain your ankle and you unable to fight.
Fuck with me you must be smoking cocaine in a pipe.
Nigga I will strangle your wife with the chain of a bike.

Fuck what they said, all them niggas haters.
You gone find a couple of they heads in my refrigerator.
Listen to my music minutes later you on a ventilator.
I will feed a fucking demonstrator to a pit of gators.

A pair of goggles, weedwackers and lawn tools.
Its something like a surgery but call it what you want to.
Now let me disconnect this small tube with a sharp spoon.
Your fucking chest is torn apart, I can see your heart move.

Saying shit that’s uncalled for, I drop gore.
This is hardcore, dog porn in art form.
To them twat sores, trying to cock block more.
Tell them all give me top whore 'til your jaw sore.

I was not born, I'm a hell spawn boy.
They had to chop horns off my forehead with God’s sword.
They gone find you floating offshore with your arms torn.
Off your body looking like somebody from the Gulf War.

Hook:
I told y’all I would be the man.
Now I’m finna show y’all all my evil plans.
I been going so hard you can’t see me fam
Bitch I'm finna smoke y'all with my evil plans
X2