Holly Wants To Go (Intro) E

You walk a million miles biting off one of My styles. Death tolls in trillions, Trashed by the trial of traumatic disorder sort of Relating the way I saw him. Death by battle, a fourth to postmortem. I caught him silhouetted, picked out to get it. Like a AK-47, I fire the rhythms and let It reload my lips and garble. To fit the job, shoot slate upon the head Of a segregated marvel that hobbled up, Bobbled up with a front to chat with me. Get that bullshit out of my face. I totally rap my reply, attacking the guy who From this point on was doomed to die