Chained
To tha mirror
And a razor blade
Count. Down. Days.
Awaiting comfort
That only dying can bring
World of fakes
Existence is suffering
Until your dying days
Cold steel of my knife
Fear in your Eyes
Hands of your master
Beg for your life
How can u have beef
With my crew when
I'm from where u reppin
Actions have f*cking consequences
Be Careful how u steppin
Chained
To tha mirror
And tha razor blade
Count. Down. Days.
Awaiting comfort
That only dying can bring
World of fakes
I am
Your demise
Your suffering is
My source of power
No to one to save you now
This is your final hour
SOURCE OF POWER
Life is a cold game
Colder yet is the grave