He Made a Deal

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MiLow Philosophy

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Y'all know the prophecy
I'm MiLoW Philosophy 
I'm a monster a monstrosity
Got dark forces inside of me
Raps game young prodigy
To slow never stopping me
Killing every track if possibly
I murder the beat and sloppily 
I'm hot as hell just like the devil
Petal to the metal like I'm a rebel
I put it in my notes like it's a treble
I'm a Rolling Stone your like a pebble 
I'm hungry for the money it's appetizing 
I'm rising the bar just like version
Got ya hands up right to the skies and
Taking ya bands and jewel and diamonds
Your a dead clown just like the joker
I see Heath Ledger in yo composure
Move wrong and I might smoke ya
I call the cards just like it's poker.
This money moves me like it's my chauffeur.
Y'all soft as hell just like a sofa
Leave you hanging up just like a poster
Y'all sitting on me like I'm a coaster 

He made deal with Satan 
He'll give the skills to pay the bills and the deal was sealed 
And all he had to do was shake hands
Told him he had a plan

Now he feels like he suffocated never levitating and never elevating in quicksand
Now he has to face to the facts that due to thoughtless acts there's no turning back

Now your life is filled with regret and I bet it feels so cold 
To know you sold your soul for a little piece of gold 
And now you play the role as Satan's puppet bitch

I guess Heaven off your bucket list 
I'll give you until the count of six before I'll get sick and sic my pits

So run quick before my clips will spit and 
If I'll have to grip my gun your lungs will drip a flood of blood 
And this is after my brain sprung some quick sick shit 
Like how to make your wig split

But I'm used to shit and thoughts like this

Because as a kid I lied and cried in bed 
Because inside my head was scribed and complied to subscripted 
Twisted ballistic undepicted scripted visions of the inquisitions 
From these apparitions about the apposition 
On the decision of my brain's religion on what's wrong and right

So on these sleepless peace-less long nights 
I'd grab my arms tight and with a knife 
I'd begin to write and insight a fight from heaven and hell

So between the ages of seven and twelve it was hard to tell if life was real or a spell

So if I was sick like this shit as a kid in the head
You could only imagine me growing up to be a dragon 
While somebody is dragging on the back of a wagon gagging and gasp for life

I'll grasp a knife and it'll get thrashed in his wind pipe
After that it's a rap call it a night

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