You've tried to write a song - overdose And what about an album? - comatose You ate trash and talked trash in the "16 tons" Was feeling you had Nuts, looks like Crispy Rolls Wear holy collar, carry with you golden corse That's pray time, nigga, kneel and don't shift out of pose Turn yourself toward the urban temple I suppose That my presence is more insulting than was Holly's on the FOX We live a life waiting manna from the Boss, Act coy and you will never be the most Hard time has started, man, I'm gonna do it till I get in box People even have no idea how can they exist without fucking a hoes You want to consider me Grey, and it is your shame, 'cause I'm waiting my girl without brows Have you ever heard the false, that's the question, but actually words are for deception Chris, there is my apologies for my inception, true feelings is my conception Overhated, no exceptions, you ain't aborted but your world's perception Raise up your bowls more furious But one moment my eyes'll get closed