Rapture - Ghostemane

I’m sodomizin' your bitch till the dawn break

Hands around her neck till she red faced

Buddha on my throat cause I meditate

You fuckin' waste of space, don’t you procreate

I’m sodomizin' your bitch till the dawn break

Hands around her neck till she red faced

Buddha on my throat cause I meditate

You fuckin' waste of space, don’t you procreate

Soon as the moon hit it’s peak

Bound your hands and feet

Placin' my hand on your face

Utterin' Latin speech

Pullin' a dagger up outta my waist I place it in between your teeth

Soon as Vega hits the Zenith I pull it and you bleed

I don’t respond to no beef

I would rather croak

I’m too enlightened to speak

Yes I am too woke

Pentagram on my ski

But just to provoke

You to question and seek

What you think you know

Don’t pop

Fuck dope

Drunk at the Citadel

Sip the blood of Christ

Drive

Now I got a D-U-I

Old soul

Really though

Never leave my house I don’t

Wanna go

Anywhere cause in a full room I’m alone

No I don’t

Feel like I’m from here at all

Think a meteor with my cells hit Earth here long ago

Makin' me a thing from a world where we don’t give a fuck

About what anyone else doin' I would rather not know

I’m sodomizin' your bitch till the dawn break

Hands around her neck till she red faced

Buddha on my throat cause I meditate

You fuckin' waste of space, don’t you procreate

I’m sodomizin' your bitch till the dawn break

Hands around her neck till she red faced

Buddha on my throat cause I meditate

You fuckin' waste of space, don’t you procreate