It's automatic I rain caskets of dead poets, my mother gave the permission for the syrum of lyricism, Dr. Kavorkian overdosed it.
Now I rain death traps P.O.W. camps, torture cambers, my insane slang divides continents, and turn rabbis to gangbangers.
I'm Ako Mack the world killer. In my past life I was Jack the Ripper, Charles Manson, then Son of Sam the New York.
44 caliber killer. I come from desolation, full of abomination's, where gods stay at war for territory.
Incest multiplies my population.
My blood turns to venom, and bleed poisonous centipedes, so tell my enemies I hold the antidote in a state of cryogenic freeze.
I'm cold, south poled, frigid, subzero. I'll step off the cyclone, spin off the planet, and laugh at your globe.
Who's your god?