Bullet Flow ft BxAxK

Gargoyle Ft. Black

Shogun Freestyle

InternetKillah!

Killswitch ft Damaged

Writing ‘Em Off ft. SwizZz

Jaycom's 'Block Cypher' Verse

god-flayer

Bodybag Demo ft. Cert

Deathknell Ft. KB313

Deathknell II

Livin' In A Movie Remix (Ft. Bam)

beat by ReelX 
mixed by Jaycom

Lyrics: 
it's Pen', and i'm back on my XXL shit, 
-and i never gave a fuck, so i'll see you in hell bitch. 
i'm Usherin' a shot, the thing that i melt with, 
-and you can bet i "Let it Burn", whenever the shells hit. 
i really do this music shit, and there is no faking, 
i built it from the ground up, and i made the foundation. 
-night vision kaleidoscope, for when i'm feelin' jaded, 
-at the top of the pyramid like a master mason. 
 -i spit a plague to body rappers, and it's carried by crows, 
-the ether leave you wit' not enough to bury ya' bones. 
-the verses be makin' you all feel despair in ya' soul, 
-the same fear that you feel when i'm airin' a colt. 
..the derringer gold, -time for you to take the plunge,
bad omens all shackled to your fate as one. 
-i make 'em run, the hunt when i chase these fucks. 
-i go through iron deficiency to taste the blood.  
i'll do anything i can, i wanna savor the moment, 
-involvin' takin' the pain, i manipulate and control it. 
and i'm numb to the sight, i sedate the emotions, 
-cuttin' thru, these fuckin' crews wit' the blade of a shonin. 
Pen is everything you fear, the void in the dark, 
they were usin' my saliva for the poison in darts, 
and we both know, bullets travel faster than sound, so you won't even hear a single fuckin' noise when it spark. 
Pen is everything you fear, so you avoiding the dark,
-it's a drum mag for rappers that are destroyin' the art, 
and we both know, bullets travel faster than sound, so you won't even hear a single fuckin' noise when it spark. 
you dead now, no alibi, just burial plots, 
-make sure you answerin' the door when hystria knocks. 
-darin' to pop; drop the act, 'cause the character rocked. 
the point of view is the eagle-eye, the aerial shot. 
i'm really gonna find out what you're made of now, 
-kickin' ya' face in the dirt so you taste the ground,
raise the pound, we ain't talkin' minimum wages now, 
-the drum hit a rhythm, like the way that my cadence sound. 
they said "that boy got heart"..
-so i'm piecin' up the ribcage, 
twin blades clips spray, it's leakin' like a mixtape. 
round to the head, so i know it make 'em sit straight, 
-and we don't make the tombstones, we just help 'em print dates. 
pull up on 'em talkin' shit, i'm seein' what the beef about, 
-and i don't even gotta kill, 'cause i'll leave 'em bleedin' out. 
head-turnin' bars all i need to snap they neck, 
-so they dyin' to the pen, and i ain't even get to battle yet. 
with looks that could kill, that's the violent-type,
-shoot blank stares that play in your mind-at-night. 
i really communicate, via lines-of-sight,
-sniffin' ether ash you can say that i'm high-on-life. 
so imma leave you wit' a lesson, don't you fuckin' forget it: 
-Pen' will body all you rappers and leave nothin' to mention, 
'cause the skill between us isn't somethin' luck is defendin', 
so come head-to-head or be prepared to get tucked in ya' death-bed.

Void (Prod. Reflex Beatz, Mixed by Jaycom)

Mixed by Bam 
Lyrics: 

judgement day 

Verse 1:
writing for a decade, still learning the basics,
-punchlinin' like a rookie, and your personals ain't shit,  
it's a burden to make sense, how you earnin' ya' placement?
-"Still Magic" means a "dry-spell".. a PERMANENT STASIS. 
bitch you ain't a problem, you a branded coward, 
-gassin' weak ass bars that you planned in hours. 
i been teachin' writers.. i'ma have to clown son, 
..i'ma "show 'em how to do it", an' make an example out'chea. 
i'll kill 'em broad day, and leave 'em dead in the heat, 
you don't go by the numbers when you're mentioning me. 
send 'em outside, if you hold the torch, it's Cloverfield:
-get 'em thrown, for every stat,-'chu head in da street.  
it's the debt industry.. leave you shinin' when the lead falls,  
battles vs Pen' signs a deal with the headstrong. 
his writtens miss detail, read' over the fine-print:
his only fall-out, was "overlookin'" on the death-clause. (claws) 

Hook: 
you talk a lotta shit, but who you tryna impress, gawdd? 
-hopin' i was gonna let him live, he "dead wrong", tech drawn
..i point it at him (Adam) reachin' out, but it's time he met god, 
gamble life or death, Pen' who they bet on. 
-think you got footing on the platform, step strong
-groundbreaking shit to prove that ya' "dead wrong". 
-disrespect 'Con' put 'em down to earth when we set bombs,
treadin' up on me, get shot when the lead hot. 


Verse 2: 
so he wants the shine, only 'cause he needs the glory, 
-you're the reason that white rappers are seen as corny. 
it's worse than boring..
-leave your "little bit of this, little bit of that" indecisive ass in the borderline of purgatory. 
-it's a given that still i'm killin' suckas, 
fruity wrappers lackin' substance spittin' eye-candy bars, 
 -thinkin' somethin': skin is tougher wit' pigment under, 
how ya' art-official, when you got "artificial" colors? 
he can't take criticism so he's typing his threats, 
-It makes sense he'd want to write back.. he's "dying to Pen"
-acting high & mighty he ain't better than pyro or texx
at the end, Pen' on paper a contract signage' of death. 
what he holdin' down? 
-gettin' bodies lifted somethin' light, 
now i'm marked for killin' 'em.. like "You should see the other guy"
i'll make him underground, buried catacombs wit' shattered bones for underhanded throws against the force of an atlas stone.

Hook: 
you talk a lotta shit, but who you tryna impress, gawdd? 
-hopin' i was gonna let him live, he "dead wrong", tech drawn,
i point it at him (Adam) reachin' out, but it's time he met god, 
gamble life or death, Pen' who they bet on. 
think you got footing on the platform, step strong
groundbreaking shit to prove that ya' "dead wrong". 
-disrespect 'Con' put 'em down to earth when we set bombs,
treadin' up on me, get shot when the lead hot. 

Verse 3: 
they think i'm done wit' this faggot? 
nah 
fuckin' pussy ass rapper talkin' shit, fuck you 

he beggin' for a face-to-face, 'till the .9 blastin'
now you fightin' to breathe, THERE'S ya' real-life battle. 
you can't write, you can't rap, actin' like you snap shit, 
-sound like a retard if you're spittin' adlibs 
you've got less than 10 pieces with more than 10 respect,
-it's not even unfair, i've put a sword to lesser men. 
steppin' to Pen', leavin' 'em dead when the edge connect, 
wannabe "king", i'll put the crown on the crown of ya' severed head. 
it really ain't fair, the Notorious taught us to never fear from a dude who just breathe the same air, 
he ready to die?.. there's no life after death,
yea, u really get a crazy ego being a BIG-head. 
-i tried to dig through ya' page, it's boring as fuck, 
and now i'm spittin' all my shit wit' the force of a gun, 
you talkin' bout fightin', if you scorin' a snub, 
-i'm yujiro hanma, and i'm just absorbin' the punch. 
 it's only been a week and you already forget shit,
-"Pen' will body all you rappers and leave nothin' to mention"
ya' dead wrong.

DEAD WRONG (Stillmagic Diss)

#newmusic #new #popular #trending #feed #hiphop #rap #trap #$uicideboy$ #music

DEAD SERIOUS ft. JiF

F.I.L.O. (Ft. JDM)

32-Rnd Drum

Violence, & more Violence!

JUDAS.

Lyrics: 
it's pen', i'm beheadin' 'em, comin' down wit' a guilliotine 
team supreme, hop in the whip, and i gotta flee the scene. 
nobody give a fuck about'chu, it won't even be a thing, 
-teachin' how to rob in the industry make 'em peep the steez. 
no effort, 
-if you don't think you can flow on a track, don't stress it..
-now rappers not even rapping to make, 
gold records..
payin' beatmakers and engineers the 
sole method,
-then you get the video shot by,
cole bennett. 
no message, punchlines, or clever rhymes
go and say some shit that sounds tough in a better light. 
-memorize? nah, dawg, i really doubt that, 
when you're on stage, they'll just play it from the fuckin' soundtrack. 
background noise for all the theatrics, 
internet actors and of their rap hits. 
music to the side; and they move for the masses, 
-money is the drug that fuels all of they habits. 
bomb on a classic.. it's a tactic, 
-you payin' all their bills even after the last hit, 
-the death clause returnin' 3x the advances, 
-ya' royalties in other hands, so much for the passion. 
-ya' label only givin' you money to make it back, 
-and anybody who denies it unwilling to face the facts, 
-on paper they payin' money to all the major acts, 
-but they wouldn't have done it if they weren't gonna raise a stack. 
so play dumb, make the music that pays sums, 
-watch everyone around you, 'specially the fake fucks, 
..there's a reason that they want you to take drugs, 
-pound it in ya' head that you gotta make the pain numb. 
hire a music lawyer, 
-and if you can't afford it then you gotta have your independence do it for you.  
you gotta learn to market yourself-
or you're walkin' on shells every time-that you're barkin' for help. 
-it's a spark to the weld, but it's never gonna fix shit, 
-goin' thru it blind an easy way to get ur wig split, 
-by two gangbangin' wannabe rich kids, 
what happened to X? he wasn't one to fit in. 
when the money slowed down they did-him-in, 
it's no coincidence, they got middle men. 
-payin' off the mafia to do some hits for them, 
and if you ain't learnin' shit, you ain't listenin'. 
when they offerin' a deal their whole goal is a vessel 
-there's a reason that they say they sold their soul to the devil. 
..you hear your favorite artists talk about it all the time, 
-'cause you lose your life the second you sign on the dotted line. 
yea, your work is no longer your own, 
gotta copy the clones, not an option to blow,
no stoppin' the shows, force-feedin' you bullshit
-their aim is changin' your creative process and flow. 
ya' just another number in their algorithm, fuck that 
tryna lure you in, but ain't no fallin' for a bug trap. 
pressin' on ya music was a mothafuckin' love tap 
that fake shit really be ringin' bells like the hunchback

How To Rob.. the Industry

Verse 1:
i hold it down for Inscriptia when dem boys in a slump, 
i got acidic saliva having a poisonous tongue. 
-there's no avoidin' this son, blackouts a void in the sun, 
-get a grip for the way that y'all recoil to subs. 
it's the crew that'll take you for ransom, 
or take you for granted, wit' the blade or the hand gun. 
bullet to your dome'll leave you shaking with spasms, 
-show you levels when the muzzle got you breakin' straight into atoms.  
hold it down wit' enough weight to guide the planets, 
my cold-shoulder supports the stock of my cryo cannon, 
-the highs, i'm past 'em, feedin' off of the lies of bastards, 
..no love for a devil, the holy water is nitric acid.  
i'm collectin' blood-money after spendin' half my life, 
-playin' high stakes rock-paper-scissors, with the hands of Time. 
Pen' ghostwriting a check, 
-i got a borderline personality, from livin' life on the edge, yea
Pen' is the new hope, 
-they said i'm reachin' wit' the pole, but, i don't really got nothin' to prove though, 
so if ya' crew bold, 
-i work-around sawing off the double-barrel, as a mothafuckin' loophole.
they say that talk is cheap, so i rap wit' no budget, 
-battle style so ill i spawned shadow clones from it. 
i'm really cold-blooded, adaptin' to my surroundings i'm cappin' the ones who clown me until the day that my soul plummet. 
the pen dissolve, it's always been an issue for Pen' to solve, 
here to deliver letter-bombs, that are sent from god. 
bullet to the dome when overthinking to vent it all, 
-the voices in my head freestyle, through the second-thoughts. 
 
Verse 2: 
i hope my music makes 'em sick, they already hate the shit, 
when i rap about strangling kids and fadin' sedated chicks. 
either that, or breaking into maternity wards for label-mix, abduction, and pawning off the mothafuckin' baby limbs. 
the cocaine i sniff and the navy gin a fatal mix,
-that birth a fixation of putting blade to skin,
-even my patience razor-thin, i was raised right next to satan's kin. 
-baptized in a fuckin' blood bath, to wash away my sins. 
don't use skin masks, takes forever to break 'em in,
showed a bitch rapper fake love i been hating since. 
cipher is a ritual, every verse a bloodbath, 
Pen' is stupid-dope, using dunce caps for the blunt wraps. 
..always bark in a dog, but rarely will to fight back,
-when the canon made his life flash, in a time lapse. 
frontin' like STEEZ get a mothafucka shot,
take that leap of faith, "king capital"..
-you'll never drop. 
mental blocks got me stabbin' a shank in my dome, 
-you couldn't fathom the ideas that my cranium holds. 
hangin' a rope, blatantly choked 'till the trachea close, 
-fuck the 1's.. only "touchin' hands", when checkin' a radial pulse.

9th Circle (Prod. Bam)

Lyrics: 
word of mouth now the word of god, 
scorched-earth, only way they uncoverin' the murder plot. 
way they talkin' confirms a lot, 
a long range shooter, takes a step back for the perfect shot.  
cannot converse wit' cops, 
they trap the ghetto wit' confessions then throw 'em in a box, for conversion, dawg
i'm here to burn 'em all, 
if you made it to the top climbin' on the backs of others you deserve to fall.  
the drive-by give 'em wings, let 'em fly high, 
align sights, put 'em in the sky: Sci-fi
the .9 fye, and i'm killin' 'em why lie? 
takin' yours, i don't give a fuck about my life. 
you're a dead man,(dead) when the TEC blast, (tec) 
make the head crack really where ya' men at? (where)
they respect trash, (fuck that) i will end that, (end that) 
rounds cued, like they ready for the next match. 
my code-of-arms is semper fi, 
-if the bodies ain't enough, we can turn it into genocide. 
wanna test we can let 'em try,
-second-amendment, contract killa, imma leave 'em all dead-to-rights. 
his project flopped, now he testin' mine, 
dick-riding responses, but when i do it, it dent his pride. 
i saw this shit ahead of time, 
-control verse but he was too intimidated to mention i. 
cowards ride power-highs 
-ignore me so they ain't gotta deal wit' it: outta-sight-outta-mind. 
swear that i'm a racist, but they makin' it up, 
-fakin' angles 'cause their wordplay ain't crazy enough. 
fuck that, the shit is corny, so i'm packin' it up, 
magnum or sub, split-decision 'cause they actin' for fun. 
ha, this pussy's just mad his bitch is ugly as fuck, 
-he can stake it all on me, he's outrunnin' his luck. 
he's talkin' 'bout killin' me, i received plenty threats, 
actin' like he 50 cent, runnin' wit' many men. 
you pussy, and bein' bitch is what you represent
talkin' bout "was in colorado", he already left. 
now if there's a dude that i hate more than a faggot, 
-it's a dude that'll say shit but never with action. 
-startin' drama for promotion, but never for passion, 
..you know you fucking suck when only kids are reacting. 
you notice how grown men don't give you the time of day, 
-well you should be thankful that i gave you the time today. 
"don't tell a lie, you don't tell the truth", that's really what you said?  
-you threw ya' boy under the bus and made it a fuckin' trend. 
.."anti-pedophile", soft in the booth,  
you "don't ever talk to minors" and you call it the truth? 
flip-floppin' check his group if you wantin' the proof, 
how can you say that, when you got kids all in ya' crew?? 
chill, i promise you don't want a problem wit' pen' 
-audible death, before releasin' this i stopped to reflect: 
-what's the cost of his head? if he can't process a threat? 
-don't even know levels between us, he shoddy at best, nah 
subbin' me is suicide, he prolly depressed 
-see, snake me one time, and you lost my respect, 
-but keep actin' like ya' better, it's the cause of ya' death, 
ahh put him on for actin' like a god in the flesh, pen'

WORD OF GOD.

LYRICS: 
Verse 1: 
we got Pen' vs.. Mr. Egomaniac,
-CLC bitchmade, afraid to diss wit' names attached. 
..you're too afraid to audio diss me,
-you had to fake your own rumors so we thinkin' you grip heat. 
-he wanna be sheisty, like he'd pull the mask up, 
-always fakin' pretend beef, an' actin' like a gat tucked.  
gym teacher, i can't call you a fat fuck, 
-but i know you get smoked and make 'em kids run extra laps, bruh. 
a crucifix crossin' up a loser bitch, 
-a grown man, DMing kids to listen to his newest diss. 
-second-hand embarrassment, screamin' in ya' music, twin, 
-you tryna get emotion (a motion) without making "moving shit". 
..don't try to threaten me wit' the hate mob, 
-it's either all-in, or nothing at all, ain't no fake shots. 
..ya'll know his dad left 'em,
-it's common knowledge that if you want to really raise a baby, it takes pops.  
manipulatin' minors for information, a model right? 
the people supporting him better be hitting the bottle twice 
i didn't even know that he was here he a silent guy, 
-we had him lookin' over his shoulder in colorado like: 
 
Hook:
"they shootin'," i made you look 
i know he hate what i'm sayin' got his pride shook, 
rappers can't do it, same way that i could 
where the real ones? we gon' peel sumn
"they shootin'," i made you look 
we get 'em slain casket made from the pine wood
know he can't keep up, on wax or rhyme books 
this a real sub, wit' a steel drum

Verse 2: 
this ain't rappin', its a crime scene 
-shoulda killed this mothafucka at 19 
instead i let him live, he wanna shine like me
-the gauge shiftin', ima put him in the high beams  
don't be typin' in comments, i wanna hear you rap, bitch. 
don't be hypin' on the my shit, he be fearin' that, shit. 
it's my crew this, and "my crew" that, 
-this shit is important to anyone who got Luke back:
-leanin' on Format and Arc', hopin' they help, 
Arc is your boy, but you "exposed" him yourself
you're a fake bitch, that's no matter how you wanna play it, 
..throw your own under the bus.. for pedo allegations. 
made a song about it too, this a sick lesson, 
turnin' defamation to a new hit record. 
he played the good guy by taking it down? 
-and they swept it under rugs, there's no hate for this clown. 
fuck that

Hook:
 "they shootin'," i made you look 
i know he hate what i'm sayin' got his pride shook, 
rappers can't do it, same way that i could 
where the real ones? we gon' peel sumn
"they shootin'," i made you look 
we get 'em slain casket made from the pine wood
know he can't keep up, on wax or rhyme books 
this a real sub, wit' a steel drum

Verse 3:
beef and drama feeds the man he lacks in his songs, he-
bringin' up my dad, but don't want family involved, and-
they wantin' Pen' no matter how badly it cost, 
ima send him up, and now you gotta battle wit' god, bitch
this battle's not a bout or match, that's fine bruh, 
-i'm sure you'll spit that dick out and rap, with my luck, 
-thinkin' Sand fell through on the flipside? heat'll see through to our (hour)-glass-ceilin' (sealin') , 'cause ya' time's up.
you only peep his shit for the drama,  
-let the hype die down, then critically i bomb ya' 
and the music is boring,  
-nobody care about you, your opinion, or those shitty bait-tracks you're using as warnings. 
but he needs anger to make cold tracks, 
-takes other's energy to fuel his own gas,
-that's why me not dissing back made dude so mad, 
-'nobody care about him but his 15-ye-

MADE YOU LOOK (Cxpitxl Diss)

Wanna-B. Rabbit (Cxpitxl Diss II)

3rd Round KO (prod. Bam)

Instrumental by NotLoc, Mixed by Bam

LYRICS:
Pen' 
..if the vibes are right, yea, we could ride all night 
yeah, we get high and drive, yeah, you my ride or die. 
it's pen baby, i ain't got a lot but i'll treat you right, 
-what i gotta do to take you with me when i leave tonight? 
whippin' down the block and roll the window, we can see the lights, 
she be shinin' like the night sky, that's how i feel tonight. 
little lean wit' it and
my schedule is open, we can book foreeal 
standin' on business ima foot the bill 
-and, she be my medusa if looks could kill. 
we could really get it poppin', ain't nobody there to stop it, 
jump up on a flight and we can shoot up to the tropics. 
if you lemme in, i'll get it open like a locksmith, 
-too much love for the game to do it for the profit. 
fannin' the flame, what's a candle to rain? 
-i'm gonna burn it down they can't handle the blaze,
maskin' the name is massive mistake, 
-i'll stab you in the back just to laugh in ya' face. 
-but i'm laughin' at the pain of being a fake, a fraud 
have 'em buried in their grave and they can't chase the clock, 
get it stuck up in their brain, and they can't shake it off, 
closin' all 'em doors on me, i'll go and break the locks. 

NotLoc, go and get 'em all, kid

NotLoc: 
Me and Pen' we be on the repeat, 
..and we slippin' and slidin' past de-feat
and we leave 'em in the dust to peep the steez
Started from the bottom but we'll get it with the process, 
closed-case on the docket, we the top picks
never stoppin' let it raise, shootin' with the rocket
"ima hand it off to Pen to get the vibe locked in."
 
Pen': 
gotta bad chick, she slim thick, 
-took her back to the crib, like a pick-six
black tee, black boots, i'm a misfit 
..put a trackin' device in her lipstick. 
now we can run into each other if she walkin' out in public, 
strikin' conversations outta nowhere when she runnin' 
wearin' a disguise, today i'm feelin' gutsy,
put on another face, but manipulate like Bundy. 
don't be scared baby, like you really gotta dead that, 
line-'a-scrimmage.. imma WALKIN' "red flag". 
..doctorate degree, but no saving her, 
..operator to autopsy: TABLES TURNED. 
she went from getting ready, lip balm and music,
-to getting "dressed up", 
..wit' embalming fluid. 
she was lookin' in a wound, for cause and effect,
-now they're looking into her.. FOR THE CAUSE OF HER DEATH. 
starvin' the wreck, vibe is carcinogen,
i don't leave evidence when i carve in the flesh. 
imma do the morgue's job, gonna mark 'em for death,
-they don't even gotta question, "Y-carve in the chest"  
and if u got away i let it happen with a hardline
lovin' the chase, 'till i shoot 'em with the carbine. 
make ya' life flash when ya' lookin' in the car lights, 
pair this beat and my dark side, it's a far cry.

First 48.

lyrics:

Pen':
a nihilist, i'll annihilate 'em inna violent nature. 
my creator, mixed toxic fuel and a lightning vapor. 
find ya' savior, deep inside of the sights of my rifle chamber, 
smokin' on his pack with a hash-rolled bible paper.  
chopping block is coming down on his head like a guillotine,
my BPM is flowing as consistent as the killing sprees.
i weigh my options, you don't even know that i built a scheme, 
-you can catch me exacting revenge with a triple beam. 
i really be one of the illest when screamin' on 'em like i'm rapping on "killmachine" 
the bullets be coolin' an' kickin' inside when i'm droppin' the top like a limousine. 
u feelin' the beat? i'll cripple ya' knees, 
sittin' 'em down like i'm drillin' ya' teeth. 
i'll body these artists who mockin' the hottest 
put 'em on the end of the .mill and squeeze. 
fo, fo, tip of the lead 
aimin' at the middle of heads. 
12 gauge, pinnin' the chest 
the bucks'll invest, u in crippling debt. 
fo, fo, tip of the lead 
aimin' at the middle of heads. 
12 gauge, pinnin' the chest 
the bucks'll invest, u in crippling debt.

Glum'
I won't lie man.
all i needs my spliff alight, and it amplifies my mind,
to begin the night,
then I sniff a line and its alinged, to strictly fit inside, my snout, but it's, so big in size, that, I think ill die,
im drinking white, gin, and wine while inside, inns lying with my, wrist sliten and sliced, by a scissor inside, my right hand,
sniffing is, diminishing, 
my life span,
shit i might buy an ounce and announce that I'll pounce on my fans spouse,,
but when im, rapping lines, disguised, as a mix of a fascists, facts and lies,
 I go back in time ,
as a factualised, fantisied, antichrist, with an axe and knife,
to slash n hack ya back and, take out ya spine
 and, use it to hang ya wife,
moving Pacific tides with the rhymes,
but pastors lie and its fine,
but when i form a rhyme they say I'm a pyschopath, jotting his thoughts, from a hospital ward,
im high off grass, and hostle towards anyone offerin support, (fuck off)
honestly, my mum should've aborted me
ghost forms are constantly haunting me, when im bored I be puffing draws of weed ,
i try to care but I keep falling asleep from thorazine its already morning?

chambered in christ.

Lyrics:

Verse 1: 
high school were the worst years of my life 
-i was a nobody, and nothin' could mirror the vibe. 
-i didn't have no homies, or any peers for advice, 
-just a couple fake friends that put me to the side. 
..but maybe that's my fault, for being closed-off 
..i didn't smoke raws, i didn't do nothin' at all 
..i would play Earl Sweat', my grades would stumble and fall, 
-wanted to get a gun and blast, and succumb to my thoughts, 
-never givin' a fuck..i still struggle with god, 
-i know that there is truth within it that is under the flaws. 
-i don't believe what i can't see, and i wonder the cause, 
-well everybody in my life got fucked by the law. 
ma dukes manipulated, and would run to the cops  
-foreign domestic affairs, under the government's watch
-of course that means domestic violence, and my dad's affair when we was runnin' from the government, and needed luck of the draw.   
a young entrepreneur, the smartest man i ever known, 
-makin' money outta nothin', every hand he'd ever thrown,  
-shoulda been treated with respect, but i was lackin' wit' the motivation, 
..dammit, an' now it's wasted. 

Hook:
housings scams, sellin' drugs under the cartel, 
-my mothafuckin' hero, not a story the bars tell. 
this is real life, off my chest where my heart dwells, 
-behind my ribcage, locked up in a dark cell. 
housings scams, sellin' drugs under the cartel, 
-my mothafuckin' hero, not a story the bars tell. 
this is real life, off my chest where my heart dwells, 
-behind my ribcage, locked up in a dark cell. 

Verse 2: 
my parents both split back when i was in third grade, 
my teacher mr miller used to help me through my worst days. 
whatever he said to me got my head out of the birdcage, 
thankful to that, 'cause i woulda hated my first name. 
my dad's name was also Dru, i wear it like a nametag, 
i'm proud of that shit, hope i'll be half of the same man. 
i wonder if he's proud of me, or wouldn't understand
i know that i can't stress myself with what's out of my hands.

Penconscious

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