I dont need your praise, get the fuck up out my space
Hold on I dont need your plays, do not click up on my face
Rather die up on the vine, with every word I got inside
Then disperse myself amongst the world in a fashion I dislike
And I think its about that time, Ima show the world them fuckin rhymes
How you pass away deep down inside, found a new plot with a brand new life
Got a hundred shoes still I got one knife, get it everyday like I got one night
Though they never act like they got one life, they fucking up every day and just thinking they can
Come back from that
But they cant
And its sad to me
Its sad to me
Waking up, gotta get my shit together
Trench coat swinging in any weather
Looking at my gold while they search for treasure
Proof is in the pudding, Bones do it better
That dont mean that Ill teach it to ya
That just mean that Im the reaper to ya
Take you when I please and then I
Leave you with the leaves and let you sleep with nature