[Verse]
Post traumatic stress disorder makes me press record and
Record the most beratic sets of morbid lyrically blessed distorted beautiful songs beyond the fortune gorgeous stars that sort the auras while my a** gets sore from sitting on the porch
Retort you all recurrish thots
That'll make me want to block, reality out of my head for a second and just sit down and jot
Another untouchable plot, then i gotta go bust the flow hot
I gotta move forward the syllable can rot
To the field of healthy crops
But the children of the corn, well they're about to die
Mullet high so don't even try, keep that bubble by your side, and keep them kids away from my fuss of (?)
I warn indeed, that Dna suffers of PTSD
Getting distressed and my chest is the past I'm remaining a pessimist open the chest of me
See that the Dna nagging at night and then making a mess of it, check the a**essment, then you can see that the way that i fly and they have to do the estimate
Bringing the excellence since it's the Dna tru lyricist
And i'm not an impression, it's just me attacking
I suffer from PTSD but we're not even stressing they better respect us you b**h