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letra de reckless apostle - odprophet

[chorus: kid o.d.]
i look into the eyes of a reckless apostle
so fleshed out like a message in a bottle
i’m a lost cause, so much trauma and there’s no hope
watch me decompose, guess i’m just an old soul

[post-chorus: odprophet]
seven-headed serpent leave us worried for the eclipse
’til he emerges on the surface spittin’ verses from his lips
close the curtains whеn you worship if your god doesn’t exist
the pеrversion of a virgin givin’ birth from the abyss

[verse 1: odprophet]
live from the bottomless pit written in hieroglyphics
an ancient deity, nothing seems to describe the vision
p-rnographic, this cerberus sh-t is monolithic
automatic dismantle his body, get to trippin’
leg, leg, arm head in a plastic drum
light the furnace up, here the caskets come
i’m like attila the hun if he hadn’t journeyed
f-ck your prosthetic church and your plastic nurse
i’m the shere khan of the whole genre
you don’t like it, f-ck your life and your whole momma (f-ck her)
suck a d-ck with that old drama, squeeze my fist and dump the clip out the whole llama (pop! pop! pop!)
ancient deity breathe on those who believe in me
givin’ souls to the pleaides, you’ve been chosen to eat with me
deletin’ nonbelievers with a heater, welcome to the rapture
f-ck the sermon now and speakers on the ghetto blaster
[chorus: kid o.d.]
i look into the eyes of a reckless apostle
so fleshed out like a message in a bottle
i’m a lost cause, so much trauma and there’s no hope
watch me decompose, guess i’m just an old soul

[post-chorus: odprophet]
seven-headed serpent leave us worried for the eclipse
’til he emerges on the surface spittin’ verses from his lips
close the curtains when you worship if your god doesn’t exist
the perversion of a virgin givin’ birth from the abyss

[verse 2: kid o.d.]
full attack with a skit, nagasaki with a b-tch
hiroshima with the bars, i’m nuclear with the sh-t
and it’s such a predicament, what do you think it is?
f-ck your pitiful ritual, b-tch, you is an instrument
ten hymns and scriptures gettin’ ignorant
twelve apostles in a hostel with a bottle and we k!llin’ sh-t
with the oddest of prophets spittin’ oxys
but don’t bother bringing up no fiction ’cause my lyrics be the opposite
ayy! finna bop ’em with a glock, call the doctor to get an opp
lookin’ at this motherf-cker like whose opp is this?
i was hardly father so ain’t no son in me, ma
grew up in a trailer park, call that sh-t a ghetto metropolis
i’m a piece of sh-t sippin’ liquor whoopin’ and hollerin’
let it control my body, i am not fully autonomous
trippin’ in the shadows where the squatter is
i just copped some new fits, i’ma put the belt where my collar is (b-tch!)

- odprophet

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