Sweet Dreams

(álbum: Voodoo - 2015)

[Verse 1]
I sit in a dark room,
With nobody but myself and,
Putting on my socks unto this bottle I got off this shelf I know I need help,
For the fact I was contemplating on my death as suicide gettin somebody to rob but I post up right here with the tech now,
Lolligagging with their life and,
Thinking bout cookin your noodle popping your top on off with the knife and,
Brain fraiding to the nightstand
I know but not as cold as some of these hoes been in my refrigerator freezing cheaper screaming it was froze
One oh no,
Bloody toes and elbows
I was standing one foot from that motherfucker when he whispered
(Help me let go...)
But there was nobody there that could save me though,
From the monstrous chef
Knife cut you with the Freddy stripes and that hides you to death
The real Michael Myers,
No Rob Zombie
No motherfucking Dr. Loomis
Just one sick individual off of a one-fifty-one when think when I do this.
Just black out,
Wake up the next day covered in blood and guts
With pieces of nuts
Leakin with the puss
And brains and kidneys sticking to my chucks I know it sounds fucked.

[Verse 2]
I know it sounds fucked up,
I can't help it,
And I really mean this,
Use the music as a plead for help, hell believe it I really seen it the old English
Got me beatin away at my penis,
'Till it throb,
Looking like a corn on the cob,
Balls bigger than Venus.
Runnin up into the pep when they seen us
Like the motherfucker was the reaper busting
Tryin to be tough and,
Now they're suffering the repercussions,
Midsections gushing
Thinkin this last thought's for be all trophy (Try to say somethin')
But they cannot talk with a mouth full filled up with the hatred
Never rest until you meet your doom
Hit a nigga with a quick kaboom
Quick kill 'em and then I'm on the move
I'ma find out in the dune buggy
Rollin down the street with nothing but switcher sweet and saloon money (you know)
Somebody toast this drink for me
Keep your penis to yourself,
I don't need nobody to think for me,
You motherfuckers all stink to me,
If you ask me, fuck it I'ma keep it to myself,
Heater on the shelf,
You can keep your health
Hearing like an elf
Creeping on the stealth
I know it sounds cold.

[Verse 3]
It's cold,
Drinking thinkin with the venom,
Pistol packing with the get 'em
Our motherfuckers like denim,
Their niggas' faces like linen,
Looking like a pretzel when I bend 'em.
Nigga you choose what sidaz,
Everyone's still beside us,
Nigga the whose who's and the Ridaz
No survivors, everybody dyaz'
Horror movies,
Gore movies,
More movies,
With blood and guts and more uzis,
More gruely,
Automatic weapons causing death and more goolies,
More frames,
More bloodstains and brains oozing
Damn now, sick individual I be trying to be getting off of this east or,
Eating orangutan and chilled monkey brains for dessert,
Can I get off until he's hurt
Putting bullets in it with the four-fifth
Really into witchcraft,
Don't play with no hocus pocus.
And I gotta be the dopest,
'Cause I'm so promotious,
Might overdose on my own shit,
Hit the sure spit (you need to relax though),
Running with the perm hit,
Bitch you ain't learned shit? (Say what?)
Tell me when you've had enough or
Get your guts tucked in the cut with brains and kidneys sticking to my chucks,
I know it sounds fucked.