Frontin' Ass Ducks - Godfather Don

Benign minds that rhyme can’t fuck with the clandestine

Hand-to-mind, my line taps a nine like a cat o' nine

Mutilating cadavers and digits.

Spit it out

From my trachea, makes me an alche… my

Chemicals attack livers of niggas that rap with a

TEC-9.

I’ll wreck rhymes and smack local rap figures

Pitter-patter, my sickle splatter your little matter

Corrosed and mummified, encased in the brittle batter

But, suckers, I’ll run up your tookus, so talk shit

I’ll walk with ligaments that’s caustic ‘cause I lost it

Forced it, the heavenly follows ‘til my tomorrow

So I don’t see you.

I see terror, medical horror

I trigger rigor mortis, meticulous when I’m kicking

This habitual, virtual body of carnival rituals

I’m hurting you, innards and stomped gut get hacked on

Contents coagulated, I managed to rap

Long, beyond the door lies more guys to trample

A flesh-eater fetus with more eyes to sample

Implements of pain, hang in my morgue with ran-

-cid meat, sheets that reeks of, like, dog shit

Bags of body is exhumed, entombed, then I bury them

Smitten, shitting, walking ‘round my sanitarium

Go run, tell.

Son, Hell is better ta

Avoiding ill niggas polishing skulls like The Predator, yeah

My technique’ll wreck sheets from Palestine to clan-

-destine, I’ll plant a mine to destroy rhymes that can’t align

I’ll stomp ghosts and play high-post upon your steeple

My eye cries red as I reveal ill-type evil

I peeped, through flesh, the spools of fools in my bar space

So get blown the fuck away like Monty did in Scarface

A bizarre race that Allah chased.

Give me my pa’s

Face.

I’m taking revenge on niggas that pa hates

The mortician creating incisions with wit precision

You’re wishing and then you are chilling with hella Christians

I list ten men that deserve to get blasted

And do work as I smirk, their skins are gently plastered

On these hollow halls, balls and smashed, drained, and simmered

Dinner the pitfalls that could fall on niggas' innards

I am so depressed that I let

Off rounds at cops in broad daylight without a vest, just

Testing and you’re destined to rest less

Than zero.

I’m a nigga that loves to blast, I’m the ant-hero

Ozone

Depletions.

Zones increase?

Then take the ville gases

That make me break out, like, laugh like your masses

As for your pastor, he’s past a spot of humor

He can’t mess with a spirit that snap necks with Moctezuma

Design exhumer, sucking souls to leave a carcass

Crustified remains of brains reduced to porridge

Polysaccharide from the crack of mind starts to

Dilapitize my insides, I desecrate where rappers die

My eyes glisten, wishing my girl would listen

I’m disincarnate, devoid of life, and now my mission is

To imprison, design benevolence to crucifixion

Spittle typhus, infect my enemies through use of diction

Rancid, run sticks plus clips and snub tips and tons

Of NoDoz.

To keep my past up, I blast my photos

Heron, barbiturates sit on my dresser, they’re wre-

-cking me to run to water, succumb to pressure

Nevertheless, I’ll progress the shit that bust your earlobe

I’ll walk a thin line between a murderer and hero, yeah