Lucid shooter

Long nights countless hours ticking by Tick tock clocking in working my nine to five Super smoothing out the place like jam Jamming out these fucking shelves cause they don't stock themselves But I ain't santa, definitely not no box boy I don't need a stereo I just beat box boy Kick snare inside my memory act the fucking part boy Paka work my magic like a mother fucking hot boy Coming out the flock boy, I'm flying Always speaking facts bitch I'm never fucking lying Lying in a bed of clouds sleeping off my fucking high and Sativa dreaming, lucid shooting all fucking night and Just like a right spin Clockwise, you worshiping the Glock nine Feeling all the power trigger finger all those shots fire Spik lighter spiff sparking up the blunt passing To the real ones, only f*ck with people that got the ambition Cause I am on a mission, to decimate the game, bring up the fucking misfits Cause they the dopest people, seems like society don't even treat em equal But I'm not going pity though Hypnotize, drowning in the bass while my soul fantasize Lucid dreaming on the trigger, gripping Forty-fives Shooters hit the head shot no time to analyze, only time to analyze only time to die These violent words feed my soul when I'm angry Fantasizing about blood, death, killers, and danger Thinking what I'd do if anybody try to test me Might not see tomorrow, clearly, or at all Psychedelic tripping off the acidic Headshots missing cause I'm slurred in my vision See I'm fucking reckless with every decision Can't aim for precision only got time for collision Yeah, but I got a mission, I can't do no long division Slowly lining up my shot, cause I'm seeing triple vision I make no split decisions cause i ain't thinking bout living Know, I'm just a fucking misfit Know that they don't gotta listen Yeah you know I'd never fold, go catch your stack your rubber bands Diamonds blind your sniper scope so i'm lifting up my hands And I'll blind ya, yeah I'll blind ya, so bright I won't ever hide behind you Hypnotize, drowning in the bass while my soul fantasize Lucid dreaming on the trigger, gripping Forty-fives Shooters hit the head shot no time to analyze, only time to analyze only time to die