187 Caskets

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Lil Addy

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You act like you flexing
When you just messing
With shit that got you testing
And fucking with a felon
That's the shit that gives
You bitches a ticket to heaven
I don't need to bring weapons
To teach you a fucking lesson
I smoke wet sticks 
Before I make red sticks 
From a fucking dead bitch
Leaving her bleeding head split
When she gave the best head bitch
In her bed at sixteen
I said I'd make ya bitch scream
In six week with more 
Holes in the whore 
Than Swiss cheese
As her wrists bleed
With the bitch running
When I got six hundred and sixty
Six caskets with one hundred
And eighty seven more in acid
You never hit me
I'm in ya city
All dirty I'll blow you up like Kirby
In a derby when you miss me
You're times are narrow in
When I tear ya skin
I'm so evil and lethal 
When I kill more people than heroin
So you better beware ya end
Is near with fear when I scare ya kin
So don't dare show them
Or you'll surely end early
How easy I can have you bleeding
Where those in the grave yard
Play hard when there's no sin
When you compare those twins
I'm not the one that runs
When I do my devil shit
The curse of mine is a certified 
Gold medalist of a mentalist
You can't fucking level it
Once I settle this
I cook eggs of benedicts 
Like I'm a terrorist 
You need three specialists 
To make me affectionate 
I'm a demon even my therapist 
Is too fucking hesitant 
To doubt me for her own benefit 
With the scent of dead Methodists 
For my settlement 
With more dead bodies than Gotti
And Mount Everest 
Once you start meddling 
With the cleverest 
I've got several hits
Don't make it more
When I'm raping whores
With Satan's sword 
And praying for
Me to see you bleed and scream
So whatcha waiting for
I've got the four inch door hinge
You've got curse 
Cause my shots burst 
Going clockwork like orange
Hitting ya fore skin 
I'm a swordsmen before ten
Of the lords men come for rest
I've got these bodies rotting 
In storage for when they test me
I grab my machete towards them
With whores dead and more head
I got the pistol grip in
Don't make me go crazy
And make more cripple bitches
Getting ya ass kicked 
When I got caskets in triple sixes
I hear you got some wishful wishes
Don't make it you praying
In hospital stitches
With a bitch with fistful wrists slit
It's not a simple image
I'm more than a demon even 
The judicial system
Gives initial wishes
That my missile misses
Them when they get blissful kisses
From their family that a tragedy 
Isn't happening but the reality 
Is that they're always bristle living
It's that fucking simple dip shit
You fags can't riddle this shit
Just like your fiscal's missing
When you rest your head
It's not your fucking little disses
Like you fags whistle whippets
It's the fear that's more clear
Than what your crystals giving
When your time is coming at nine
At night cause your life's 
So very brittle tick tick
Even your nipples pissing
Seeing the demon when he is
Screaming at the official hit list
So surely dead an early rest
Cause the fucking signals ticking
So don't tickle my image
If you don't want a epistle written
To your loved ones that your blood
Was from your wistful picking
Messing with me is suicide
When you decide to test me
That's already deadly and messy
Once you choose ta die
And be unified with the man that
Was crucified with ya foolish mind
And your stupid life
You ain't using right
Once you're losing time

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