The Curse - Snowgoons

The say the mind is a terrible thing to waste

So my every rhyme is designed from a spiritual place

Get the time I'm some kind of a lyrical great

I drink wine from the vines of superior grapes

How you think I carry the weight they got me very irate

I make a classic it's a habit how I bury these fakes

You can't compare me to snakes I never bite I never crawl

On the mic I'm something that you never saw this is raw

Y'all can't be serious these jams is hilarious

I leave you bloody like the first man to have a period

Period I ain't gotta write no more

But since the beat kinda nice I'mma write some more

Fight your war for what little cash little checks

So when I die you can put a little flag on my chest

You a fag with a rep I got shotties for your men

If Obama don't get the spot it's probably not for him

Enough black men do good to only get shot

That's why I'm good in the hood I don't need to get the props

I only need to get these thoughts off my brain

Chopped in and slain let juju mob in the game

Write another verse and send another curse

Here comes the storm get your talking on sick nature's

Back from the dead like motherf**kers been reading the necronomicon

When the sick person is talking I murder the market

I'm a monster kids trying to see me searching the closets

If incompetent knuckleheads are being slumberers

I'm sick I kick in the f**king door and slap 'em out of pajamases

Y'all fakers believe that I've been racing on cheetahs

My face is the thesis to standing tall in my laces Adidas

From unlucky to f**king up now sucka buckle up

I'm sick motherf**k plague wouldn't touch me with rubber gloves

Half steppers stay beneath me the rap sh*t'll never leave me

I bring thunder like thor and swinging this hammer to AC DC

F**k you if you think this sh*t is improper

While I'm lying rappers be pushing keys thinking they're hustlers

I'll show and prove never do it for paper

Leave the cake you want to your maker

Or move for snow goons and the nature motherf**k

Write another verse and send another curse

The mob remains we was just in the shadows

King of kings kamachi and cauze brother of pharaohs

Cousins of killers fathers of felons

Don't no light no w**d around us we'll abolish your section

You got juice you will get bashed to a pulp

Real talk years since the status was caught

Hundred and eighty seven songs that ain't half of my vault

Hell froze paved my way out on a path made of salt

Me and 'mach made of fire ain't no passing the torch

You pass I'll be passing the pork I'll splatter your thoughts

West Philly where I rep where my passage was taught

Wilding up the block while granddaddy sat on the porch

Watching the news with his back to the room

I grew up with kids who swam with crack in the womb

Now they're selling the same sh*t pops died on the same strip

Shower your rhymes powerful as the gauge kick

Or with a tangled web I leave you maimed and dead

Without a microphone I make you f**king bang your head

My anger's fed when I get some heat from waxwork

The gat burst would have been a hitman just learned to rap first

Used to be a fat jerk now I'm a skinny one

One man one gun I go to war with anyone

You f**k with juju mob that's asinine

We don't have to rhyme ni**a we'll settle this by blasting