Jak Tripper - Fire Rock lyrics

Ya, you cats know how the artist ego is So my head's bigger than a hydrocephalic's wig You need a fix? I got that dope needle prick I'm a piece of sh** I'm what evil is Eagle gripped in a peacoat Smelling like leak smoke spliffs My back yard got the remains of dead rappers and emo kids Closet look like a Rite-Aid with guns and Calico clips My talent get me that casino chip No needed paleko flip Deep flow is Monster crocodile deep rolling Sick as week-old sh** After battles I creep slow for Puerto Rico tricks Then a week goes quick Bodies in the west found buried where the east coast is Heat whole cliques Cut off faces Wear them like soft burrito skins I'm a walking crematorium mouth like a steam boat lid The way I look in black cone You'd think I'd reap d**h I got no street cred But this is war like Omaha Beach head It's beef bet Right now these rappers is looking like humans with sheep heads Let off a school of piranhas snapping in your chompers Nine hundred devoted temple a**embly revisited My cult's Guyana Coke and vodka Rice sacks in the Honda I'm focused like Wilson writing "Help Me, Rhonda" Starving, I overeat But I'm feeding a tapeworm the size of a Black Mamba Pa**ing those D's Sour patches, rolling green Sprinkling hash and gold kief I like my b**hes a**es like a like my sac of trees Fat with no seeds I don't sleep but I be entrapped catching no Z's My goon's straight out of psychiatric home leave f** flashing Rollies I'll smoke you smoking your man's ashes, homie "haha one man Cheech and Chong act. That's an OG." (He began to dangerously unravel. His madness fueled by a growing interest in cannibalism and religion. Fish began to indulge in raw meat too. Often serving it to his children. Who would later testify he would do this on nights when the moon was full.) [an excerpt from Serial k**ers: The Real Life Hannibal Lecters. Talking about Albert Fish.]