Getting bald, hairline receding.

Don't get bold, I just conceded it.

In the land of the free, there's so much to talk about.

So don't talk about me, don't look for a gunshot sound.

Yes, don't talk about me, by your side there's a used round.

Not my finger on the trigger yet you still lay on the ground.

How do we tell your family, how rapidly, animosity, took from the city.

How do we tell your social media, that your malaria, evolved bacteria, became your end?

It is disgusting, are we really free?

Whoever says something "nasty", a killing spree.

Ok, we won't kill your rights, we will straight up kill you.

I don't like when you shed lights, on my lies, tell the truth.

There's an irony running around, it can be a curse.

Yes you are free, a free body inside a hearse.

We extend your hands, we say goodbye.

Oh you poor man, you really tried.

And a fake tear, rolls down my eye.

All good you meant, for it you died.

There's silence in these streets.

If we keep it, we get treats.

Be a good bitch, or be a body under the bridge, no one likes a snitch.

I'm filthy rich, so I dictate, I make my wish, come true.

Are you feeling blue? Lips shut, superglue.

Better forget everything you knew, or meet my crew.

How do we tell your family, that their son, prodigy, should have acted cautiously?

How do we tell your social media, that their leader, with ideas, superior, became your end?

It is disgusting, are we really free?

Whoever says something "nasty", a killing spree.

Ok, we won't kill your rights, we will straight up kill you.

I don't like when you shed lights, on my lies, tell the truth.

There's an irony running around, it can be a curse.

Yes you are free, a free body inside a hearse.

We extend your hands, we say goodbye.

Oh you poor man, you really tried.

And a fake tear, rolls down my eye.

All good you meant, for it you died.

I told you to shut up.

Now you're dead in the hot-tub.

Are you cold?

Still bold?

You oversold.

Things not meant to be told.

Now you fold.

Being controlled.

Even with a pair of aces.

We make you fold, leave no traces.

You are just one in tons of faces.

That become murals in places.

Ok, we won't kill your rights, we will straight up kill you.

I don't like when you shed lights, on my lies, tell the truth.

There's an irony running around, it can be a curse.

Yes you are free, a free body inside a hearse.

We extend your hands, we say goodbye.

Oh you poor man, you really tried.

And a fake tear, rolls down my eye.

All good you meant, for it you died.