Sunday Prayer

Bitch on her knees, call it Sunday prayer, Glock on my waist, I don’t fight fair. Fuck that talk, I don’t play no games, I fuck her face while I’m countin’ my gains. Sniffin’ that pack while I load my drum, She ride my dick ‘til her whole jaw numb. Ops on the ‘Gram, but in real they rats, Catch ‘em lackin’, put a hole through hats. Money so dirty, got blood on my bands, Slapped her ass while she do it with no hands. Pull up in black, that’s death on wheels, Murder my verse, then go pop them pills. Bitch too bad, got a throat like magic, Bust on her tongue, now she call it classic. I’m in that zone, where the demons lurk, Fuck peace talks, put your face on a shirt. I’m that bastard your mama warned ‘bout, I don’t do love, I just do damage, Sex, drugs, guns — that’s my package. Too many ops, I got too many clips, She got a man, but still ride my dick. Gave her a pill, now she movin’ like water, She scream “Kasper” while I slaughter. Fuck a good boy, I’m that hell-born beast, Your girl my pet, got her chained on a leash. Runnin’ this game while you still beg features, Fuckin’ your girl while she call me her preacher. Tat on my face, but I ain’t no saint, I paint your crib red — blood, not paint. Loyal to none, I just flex and fade, Smokin’ your dog like a backwood blade. Kasper the Glock, got your bitch on a leash, She lickin’ my balls while I talk to the…………….. Bitch on her knees, call it Sunday prayer, Glock on my waist, I don’t fight fair. Fuck that talk, I don’t play no games, I fuck her face while I’m countin’ my gains. Sniffin’ that pack while I load my drum, She ride my dick ‘til her whole jaw numb. Ops on the ‘Gram, but in real they rats, Catch ‘em lackin’, put a hole through hats.