...israel is my bitch, and I does what I wish to its closet
any problems I fix for instance in an instance, no gossip
my face one-eighty degrees no-nonsense, and fillies options
to choose me or die without any notice to their lives spent
either back my play, or be knocked off with the bowling balls
semi-automatics send before the maggots and mold the spoil
attracts begin the feast, my dick needs a cleaning, I'm really deep
when I sink it in her recesses, I'm a' speak from how I think
the triple-six is indeed the mah'fia, the ripples in
the c.o.2's astronomical you would think, but think again
the gates to He'll now, israel done fell down, on bended knees
thinking I'm spell-bound, but can you tell how your ending's brief
eternal death now is beyond comprehension, consequential
to burn in He'll's fire, my word alone acts if I'm inactive
no rhyme or reason needed to be evident, I'll collapse you
the fear of me allone hyperventilating all your actions
now we have to begin from where we're at today, the matinee
doesn't play my movie, box offices with no cash for me
still have to cough up preventive means from being ashes heaped
to me, I put the work in to be the man you'll have to see...