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!