[God.]

munsta munsta



theres a devil in me son, im death in disguise so listen
cuz u'll never excorcise any demons, when ur exorcising with them
& u need training in text, must be the drugs ya usin for kicks
so let God foil ur plans, just so you can shoot up the shit
u keep it suburban & u'll see my hood burn virals
when sticks gets jumped quicker than subway turnstiles
i've read u before & hope u'll up the bar a little bit?
but the only one u could set higher, is the line limits bitch
the webs ur life & for it u could never get to champ
with more kicks out the net, than bad keepers in soccer camp
but u probably aint fearin, that's fine & cool to me
cuz to you, net rappin aint half as hard, as high school can be
being ugly as u are man, it's serious dog
but i aint about to take ur spot away, thats clearasils job
ur past your prime monster when the stop signs not ringin
& ur bout to be left...
with plates in ur chest big enough to tune hot 97


bitch