lirik lagu asa jake - saint (remix)
i’ll choke you to death, i’m groping a trochee to croak you with, foes are gon’ hope to repent
if you ain’t found in a moat, you’ll be drowned in the ocean, the flows so over your head
didn’t you get it? your penmanship is proving pretty pathetic and pitiful, i’ll pillage you pr-cks, yo i’m petulant, pirouettes with the pencil are pr-ne to perplex
your mentality is doltish at best, i’ll smoulder your flesh by breathing fire
i’m a behemoth icing off sheep, inciting feeble cries with poseidon’s fiendish trident
i ain’t picking peck of pickled peppers but when it comes to your b-tch, i’m reckless
she’ll let get in her in a millisecond
so i really don’t need to compete to pipe her (peter piper)
he’s a giant, fi-fee-fo-fum, better forfeit, i fry fleets for fun
foes flee from my bonafide feats, folks fuss if effete, their flesh is a fine feast for us
you feeble f-cks ain’t on the brink of divinity, i’m finna be erecting my treacherous reign
but you never stand for anything like your foot is severed and sprained with a sensitive pain
i’m the epitome of a dementedly sickening, jittery serial k!lling, hideously, vindictively, riveting cynic with a wish to stiff a mini-me within a symphony, i’m literally guillotinin’ ‘em swiftly
exhibiting a lyrical soliloquy
they thinkin’ they’ve the liberties to say they raising h-ll upon us, all they’re babbling ‘bout is shoving a gat in my mouth and their b-tch taking d-ck, like lorena bobbitt
this is metaphoric metamorphoses, you’ve met a force wielding metal forks, melting floors with a mentally demented menace for a minister, i’ve many swords to manically dismantle men mimicking him, forfeit, you ain’t fit for this hessian war, he’s tormenting any meriting death, they’re torsos severed, torn and stored as a relic for him
in my present form, i’m the omen
you’ve excessive wh0r-s and some dough, yes
but inept you are, a pig-headed p-wn
i’m skeletor, you’re a bonehead you ‘bout to see the sicker side of me that’s sought to be as sick as sodomy, i should be in sick asylum
i’ma sort of be sicking and sawing all of these abominable authors
i’ve a set of h-rns, soul is possessed
i’m a god, f-ck what y’all say it ain’t lowkey (loki) that i’m beyond grave
i’m gon’ raise the bar to the surface of mars when i murk-you-re-tards (mercury), you’re all flayed
i’m beginning to tire (tyr) of frauds games, so i’m bringing the fire like pompeii
you bellow “quit trying to appall, oh!” (apollo), but i ain’t about to let you have it your way (yahweh)
uh
i’m a time-bomb, ticked off, ticktock
twits talk trash, tracks this torridly torturous torch tricks, sick-taught torment, tiff? tsk tsk, t-t for tats my tactic, toe-tag this tick-tack-toe game
i ain’t playin’ around, if that’s yo’ aim
i don’t have hoes and dro and gold chains, f-ck you if yo’ -ss gon’ hate, saint
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