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?