Death In LA Pt. 1

I've opened up like Christ with no comparison
The prairie bad is back the Moodie Black to lap the fairer skin
Terror mirror dap the nap of scarring flat Americans and ripping at the hides to push the arrows in
Opposite of flicks that kiss the bitch and fist the pussy in
Rarely represented by your hawking bearded-charlatans
Carry rich in leather skin-ded vulture hide defy the
Powdered west the powered death in no resign to rape the holes I find BIIIIITCH
Best father noise amongst the boys of noise of unemployed devoid of modern ploys
Of goth appearance toys
You're going past a friendship to a fuckin app to help you black and peddle past the very tribes that came
Before your deathing, accomplished
Your PR, the balding money burning purse the purring earth that put your first
The monster curse the native worst the Fake Four the other black the dollars ain't proper
The co-signs are scary, equipment's on fire...

SOME DEATH IN LA

So we can sit around and talk about pussy
And bang all these photographers to prove things
Bitch I'm up in Paris too somewhere dark and pagan worn
Wearing Levi holy black, borrowing your summer flat
Independent povered rich, human clothing barely fits
Plain inane the pains of freedom plains across my elder veins the same
It's like I'll never rot. I am all you never not
Fade away and sway to pave the way to lay the faders off. Call me black
What the crow you people think?
Death grips? Ratking? Choking on a fracking pill
Kerosene flat screens the terror bad, I'm on my own hide terrified
Compare me to the desert drones in lo-fi... fuck 'em all
I'll shove the barrel in your eyes away from arrows. I'm intimidating size and heavy marrow
I sleep like all the others, but hunt with empty fist and barely parish while the masses
Probably know they shouldn't eat me

SOME DEATH IN LA

As I was born naked running pairing adolescence climbing up the EL PASO difference, rock fence
The valley vultured out and kicked me further west before the ocean in the middle of coyotes
I learned how to talk fast and drum on things to capture what had mattered to the person that
I barely had control of. I danced on top of planks of feathered humans to a mass that wouldn't want me
And I yelled at them for wearing plastic clothing
Abandoned to the middle of the country where I yelled at them of parodies and ruffled those who probably wouldn't want me
Although I was a crow of bad precision spreading out across the planet, back in Paris where they barely spoke my language
I cut my talons off and back to cacti where the fairest can't compare me and the dust is just as much me as the flowers
But unfinished ego has my farming bad. I laid it on the six dark, these people that don't want me gotta choke me