Lyrics Filthy Imagination - G-Mo Skee

They say I'm a tyrant who needs to be silenced
Because I got the filth formula formed to a science
No remorse when I'm writing my brain full of torture devices
What's the story behind the gore and the violence
I'm just using my fucking imagination as an engine
Niggas think I'm being offensive to get attention
That's not what I intended, but you can take your opinion
And drive until you die in a head-on collision
I put on a fucking hockey mask on the face of the nation
Prank calls and death threats making me anxious
I was the nigga that Mr. Hanky was chasing
But I don't run from shit so I smashed him into the pavement
A juggernaut with these words beats get body slammed
Fuck a party jam, I'm a fucking smarty pants
Cussing while I'm causing destruction the rap Deadpool
Fin'na give your momma the dick, like I was Greg Buehl
I hope you niggas ready for the turbulence
The blunt that I'm burning'll send you into a perma-trip
There's a man in my head throwing bodies in furnaces
And it's all for creative purposes
'Cause I'm a nut
Ass, blood, and guts
I guess I got a - FUCKED UP IMAGINATION
And I don't need no therapy session
Anger management, or psychiatric evaluations
I got a blunt, now take two puffs
It's bound to - fuck with your imagination
And you ain't high, unless you see the colors changing
Now say good-bye, I thank you all
For saying in my fucking imagination
Yeah
They say the spirit bomb was so piff
It's like the world took a massive hit from a sherm stick
It's crazy, cause the same day I dropped the dope shit
There was a fire in the bay area at The Ghost Ship
Rest In Peace, I'mma keep the 5-1-0 lit
And now the Filth Master's back to his old tricks
Niggas know I ain't fin'na sugarcoat shit
Fuck the world until my big black cock goes limp
All I need is my fucking imagination
I could be the Honey Badger Santa Claus chasing the chef
With a bloody apron, a demon summoned from under the pages
Or the Wheel of Fortune Steve Harvey imitation
Making human cloth while I drink afterbirth
From a pregnant bitch that I kidnapped at the church
My mind's the factory, thoughts get manufactured
And if it was a real place, a thousand people massacred
Yo
Everybody expect a written apology
The bitches, the church, the gays, the shit is comedy
I was living in poverty you didn't give a fuck what I thought
But now you want to get to know me psychologically?
Well I'mma tell you honestly society puts me into a corner
And now I'm out for blood like Chris Dorner
So fuck how you feel inside
I'll gorge on your fucking feelings when I
Cut your stomach open with a kitchen knife
Where was the world whenever something offended me?
When I was getting shitted on, there was no sympathy
I just had to sit back, and pretend it didn't sting
I ain't homophobic, I hate every living thing
'Cause I remember all the madness, the mental damage
Every doubter, every hater every disadvantage
So when I see a mic, and I get to smash it
I'mma spit the most sadistic shit you bitches can imagine!