Blunt God

They call me blunt cause that's how God rolled me Don't look now but I think the sky's falling I think I see the haters eyeballing You see light and Bob Marley (Yeah) Then it must be God Calling They call me blunt cause that's how God rolled me Don't look now but I think the sky's falling I think I see the haters eyeballing You see light and Bob Marley (Yeah) Then it must be God Calling I've been killing these demons Threw me off the deep end These son of a bitches They got me seething They want me to give up and take a seat Like a paraplegic Cause these bars ain't sittin' well Starting to think I need some help I got you bitches on life alert When I aim, come through, in stealth Look at yourself These bars could be under or over the roof Which sorta reminds me the critique of the song that went over your head Should've been placed to bed Cause they told me that the hook was too sped Kinda funny, cause I was going stupid on the verse But this isn't the first it's came to my attention That I'd kill, 'least everybody But motherfuckers that tell me to quit I think it's just that I got them nervous I do it on purpose You piss me off and you peons get hurt and I got them hurtin' every time I name a slut, bitch, or person Usually don't mean shit personally to me But they ask me if the flack, is it worth it? I still think that it's just that They call me blunt cause that's how God rolled me Don't look now but I think the sky's falling I think I see the haters eyeballing You see light and Bob Marley (Yeah) Then it must be God Calling They call me blunt cause that's how God rolled me Don't look now but I think the sky's falling I think I see the haters eyeballing You see light and Bob Marley (Yeah) Then it must be God Calling Back on my bullshit You actin so clueless I don't go out of my way To rap or just do this It's in my bloodstream To make these rappers look foolish If I gave a f*ck about the clap backs That could make them look like a blueprint Cause the minute I hear my name I'm goin to work Lock and load the missle With every word That's written to hit you Stomp you thin as newsprint Now you ain't no issue Tear it up You tearin' Someone get bitch a tissue You ain't expect me To hit you with this new flow did you (Nah) Keep it a buck I'll probably die with you Cause I kickback so hard, that every time I shoot I'm relaxed and won't miss you