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Church Service – Benn Weston

I’ve been buried 6 foot underground
Teeth all yellow cause I chewed my way out
Mud in my toes from stomping you down
My fingernails bloody from digging about
Backs all jacked from the casket I found
And my throats burned out from breathing drought
That’s why I spit fire when I open my mouth
Cause I walked through hell without making a sound
I got this weight
That cannot seem to wait
Until it grips and holds on
It just slips and it cracks the whip
Just to liberate the flip
I'd like to think I gave the slip
To any old body looking at me
Trying to cut and decapitate me
Present my head on a sliver platter
But I ain’t the Baptist I am the batter
Coming at you with a jawbone I ripped off an ass, whole
‘Cause you know industry won’t condone
How these hands are home grown
Swinging to make a thousand head stones
One skull, two skull, red skull, your skull
Be careful if you try to strike my skull, indulge
Turning the other cheek is an insult
Get the idea, this ain’t an impulse
Light bulb
I’m about to divulge
How tough love cracks thick skin
As a result, I’ll cut the seed from hull
Work without a epidural
Scalpels not dull from 7 whole days of labor
Praise goes up
For fingers trained in battle, hands made for war
That leads to burned earth
Cause a snake in the orchard is not legit
I am a bass turd in holy water
On the border always moving forward
Drawing closer to the torture
I drop these mortars
Woke up the devil
Looked in the mirror to see that I am better
I need a ghost that doesn’t haunt the past
Diagnosed and engrossed
Out the boat can’t touch the coast
Not to boast but this all got wrote
‘Cause 2 hands are my host
10 digits are how I keep my circle
Less is more when your life’s a journal
One more hates when the roosters verbal
And one more kills over a bag of silver
Time is up for what been covert
I pulled it out, overt, shoulder holstered
Weight of the world being sung like a shot gun
12 gauge, 2 more than holes that I make
Get the picture, see it clearer
Review mirror don’t hang in my cab
No ones got my back as I walk with giants
Plenty have been the fallen that wished to try it
It makes no sense for me to be the one to flee
Like a damn given on the eve of the
Reckoning that I was able willingly
Coming to place Just to smash a cane
Knowing I am defined just by my name
You know I didn’t even have to drop a hook
Fishing for fans ain’t part of the look
Rather multiply without a chorus
Cause hallelujahs are lost in the forest
Only thing left is the message I can impart
Been to quick too start
Flip chart
I’m still out smart
Rip apart exposed hearts
Watch it fade black as you restart
Couldn’t be the one to take you up to church
Burn the industry with an unlit torch
They’re nailed to a cross made out of red birch
While in cross hairs that makes a body lurch

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Wordpress backlinks generatorAmireta | All that relate to the woman, The health, And the beautyأميريتا - كل ما يخص المرأة و الصحة و الجمالVisit Visit Visit