Repin’ The Hood

 

 

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Hijack “Doomsday of Rap (Instrumental)”

 

 

 

 

Chapel Black homie and I’m repin’ the hood
Oh Lord, please let me be misunderstood
Practisin’ my swing just like a wreckin’ ball would
Your handicap my body count
Your I.Q. my group discount
Chapel Black homie and we haulin’ the goods

 

If actions tend to drown out words then what of compound fractures
Moments known to fleet, but they taste sweet within the rapture
Learned how to pick a fight on nights of colt four-five malt liquor
Got one hand in my pocket, finger itchin’ on the trigger
I’m designated hitter
Clippin’ sixers, no relief for pitcher
Clockin’ up the home runs as I stitch ya in my bigger picture

 

Psycho bitch from hell and well within my rights to gripe at scripture
Used to go to church until the chaplain called me out as sinner
Holy man, O holy man, those filthy robes no longer fit ‘cha
There’s spunk in the confessional, no mercy in this mixture

 

Thou shalt not dare to move unless it’s spreadin’ while I frisk ya
Holler Mary, hail the King, find the one ring and fist ya
And as the candelabra starts to flicker
Get a whole lot fuckin’ sicker

 

Chapel Black homie and I’m repin’ the hood
Down with showin’ out and up to less than no good
Blowin’ out the candles like a veteran would
Ruffrider no doubtin’
Shoutin’ odds at evens, slayin’ heathens
Chapel Black homie and protectin’ my hood

 

I’m Jack the bleedin’ Ripper
You’re my designated victim
Siftin’ through the London mist as I drift into your slipstream
Swift incisions, slick precision
Twice last rites in double vision
That’s some nasty blight alright and I’m out of penicillin
Not to act the villain but they’re never gonna catch me
Racing rats no match for me
Already secured the latchkey see

 

If philosophy majors couldn’t fathom me
Then what hope for the rest of humanity
No time for herd mentality in the harsh light of reality
Lost sight of all morality in flight to criminality
Steppin’ to me blasphemy
Short cut straight to catastrophe
Only got one strategy
Assault and fucking battery
Embracing my depravity
The highest form of flattery
Feel free to call me sugar as I will give you a cavity
Also answer to your majesty

 

Chapel Black homie and I’m repin’ the hood
So very much ado about less than no good
Take this to the snuff, no bloody question I would
Roll that window down so you can see it real good
Hell hath fury, I’m that fury
Holy man, ya best well fear me
One more time and you are goddamn right I’ll make that clearly
Chapel Black homie and I’m repin’ my hood

 

 

 

Richard Charles Stevens

 

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

 

 

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