Jak Tripper - Unworthy lyrics

I sell art, spit for cash, straight for chems Box and bag dope, obnoxious a**hole I go ham in a bloody doctor's labcoat Smoked out like Robert Randall New World Order, don't sleep, that sh** has not been canceled That's why I arm the church, heavy a verse with Glocks to handle Columbine locker slam, lock the lab though I'll be in the rocks with the bean like teens in swat and camo And I don't hate, I clap at the stars f** gats, I'll run and fetch the axe from the barn Chainsaw rip gore and hack him apart Icepack as a heart You can't run up in my house for my stash, I trap from my car Any level you on I'm on other, my heat I call it God's thunder Barrels like red wood law, chopping large lumber These kids is a school of squids, arm s**ers Dust em off like a arm butler If he's my amputee twin, I got the arms brother Hands on, spittin, in the kitchen Hands on mitten, on mixing paint and what my grandpa's sippin My camp on sick sh**, make nunchucks out of two tampons swinging I hang around bugged out skaters like Antwuan Dixon My skin I got ants on, I get around weapons I'm like Thing, my hand start twitching Crawling on sh** ripping, blast on b**hes I even blast on b**hes [Hook 2x] I haven't heard a worthy enough challenger yet With a knife, hatchet, magnum, a tec I'll put your scalp to the back of your neck Fragments of your melon will splash the front row like a Gallagher set Blood shoot out, splatter and jet I'm a lion, you a butchered ribcage When I go in your crib I clip everything Dogs, cats, guinea pigs, and kids shanked Not a witness, I'm flipping the fish tank Getting that piff stank Whirl in them tucked under ratchets Roll up on your mans if he got that bundle of packets While he up in his whip, unbuckled and backing Hit him in his head twice sh** himself from his muscles relaxing My raps are band in jacks and puddles of cat pee My car trunk, stuffed with more skins than a Bourn party My Christ of thorned scarred me The hogs on me, after I bury those lovely bones in a cornfield like George Harvey We can kick it but I'm kicking from the corpse on me Assa**in to the republic Glove grip, box of slugs Fill up clips, Glock, dump it In your head, to the brim like it's a bucket Busted, till you hear clicking like Captain Hook when the croc was coming [Hook 2x] (The law high executioner is always looking for a man to execute, and the law says his bride must go too.)