Call The Janitor

Glockie in my pocket I don't need no Walkie Talkie I'm sipping on some juice in the morning that no coffee Call the janitor turn that boy a red he soggy Gassed out on green tunnel vision I see foggy Wake up in the morning chef is cooking methamphetamine Crystals be that clean you can call it hygiene This Glockie in my pocket quiet cause it be obnoxious Give me led not god I don't need no wooden crosses I pop a Percocet then I get myself on set My favourite colours red when the led go through their head Decorating job deco the op block w tape Monetized streams making money of from virtual hate Vroom a four door three man drive usual tactic Boy be talking shit he goofy like he starfish Patrick Told my mans raise that mash and go let it spit We go full damage we don't wanna leave him lit Extendo mag on a semi auto clique Where the janitor there's too much red liquid