From This Place

Filthy Rhyme-sayer with multiple crime layers
 Youll find nightmares inside your mind cuz I'm their
 They say that my hair
 Confuses and causes delusions
 What more do you expect
 From a product of prostitution
 I was born losin'
 The Docter gave my mama ointment
 N told her to apply it
 When my horns grew in
 You can find me in the ashtray porn grooven
 Hitten a jay gettin' blazed tryna push my movement
 Ima ruthless muthafucka wit a heavy gat
 Smoken heady sacks threw a fucken Redivac
 I got zombie portions
 My organs are morphin'
 I'm half human half cyborg and
 My eyes are turning orange
 No one can help me, I'm afraid its been too long
 I'm already a lobotomize caveman with ape-ish palms
 Using raven claws and satans spawns to make my songs
 I'm Jesse B Dawg the motherfucken megladon
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 N you get preyed upon
 Every time I slay a song
 Ill rape ya mom
 Even when she gots no makeup on
 I'm the mega bomb
 The muthafucken m.o.p
 Your city's under siege
 A slaughter ordered under me
 I brought the devils microphone
 And a nasty beat
 No one can gas the B
 I just don't see that happening
 Your faction is only a fraction of the whole scene
 I made a city-wide cypher n smashed the whole beat
 I'm not your homie, I'm your merciless god
 I've emerged through the fog
 Promoting the words of the dawg
 I keep it raw
 Like the first time I hit skins
 But stay protected
 Like the last time I was in them
 I'm massive I smash planets Into small atoms
 You couldn't fathom what I consider a small ration
 I'm a brain teaser like two hits from the deep freezer
 I breathe ether n dank reefer I'm way beaster
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 I'm sure the gods will appreciate my newest jam
 Cuz' If not I'm looking for a job and back on food stamps
 I used to be a cool cat with a chill vibe
 Until my dog died then I wigged out n I hogtied
 My best friend in the kitchen n beat him with a steel pipe
 Until he showed me his fucken intestines
 Now im a a pestilence pressin' dirty records that
 Contain vulgar lyrics and tons of hidden messages
 A fucken pessimist a specialist in prejudice
 Rhymes the credit exodus verses n curse the best of them
 They say that every dope rapper needs an ill ride
 N a chill vibe that's enough to let your skills slide
 So I'm fucken with the dark arts
 In the middle of Clark Park
 With my car parked
 Tryna Summon some car parts
 Smoken tons of weed n slimming down the harsh bars
 But it ain't worken' out so fuck being a pop star
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place
 From this place