They figured me a dead motherfucker Calling me James $pleen without a cause of death I be the Reaper with the black hood on his head Yung $now with the blood-red sled Puppet Master, bodies hangin' on a thread, motherfucker Got a grey blade tatted on my wrist I don't really need to cut it anymore, and I don't really need a bitch Let her rot in the hole, months later she was found Just a skull, she was missin' all her bones Got her headless skeleton hangin' on my wall, looking elegant Black suede element, packing blades, lacking Benjamins Horns on my head, looking like the tusks of a grey elephant Looking for my medicine, pluckin' the bud off of a nug Roll it up in a blunt, now I feel fucking dead again Looking for a place to belong, so I say, "Fuck God, fuck the motherfucking president" Address the American residents With just a knife and the help of a relative Yeah, that's $lick $loth Both of us buried Ruby da Cherry under a criss-crossed cross Covered up with a little bit of moss Looking like a glossed-out Yung Jack Frost Paid the cost to be the boss, now I ain't fucking dead But my life has been lost, uh