Black roses paint my mission
Love is not more than decision
Death apart, hell is fiction
Mass murder, culmination
My perception, floating souls
And bleeding cold would be perfection
My deception, being bold
I’m living less with no objections
Now my death will be abysmal
Blind and deaf would be my pistol
Rank and low, affiliation
Pariahs are the connections
End my life, lethal injection
Gypsy b#tches, my election
Bout to take a piss
In your f#cking dream of liberation
A shotgun is my religion
Color grey is my division
Blinding spot
Red minions
Getting close to extermination
Heritage from generations
Doom impending, my selection
Creeping Death, the devil’s idol
Grippin’ on my f#cking rifle
I know my life’s accidental
And for that b#tch I got a rental
Pulling up to the mental
Triple 6 my fundamental
Chosen doctrine is abuse
And the horror would be my icon
Gods and angels I refuse
I born again, repeat the cycle
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMpg3SFQU5w