Saturday, 5 August 2017

Dilla the Baptist

I always wanted to believe God was real.
I also wanted aliens to exist.
So God, this post is from me to you.
No subliminals.

I've asked you to work for me, without actually believing you're real.
In fact, God I'm sorry.
I worship Satan.
But!
You're right about everything.
I want you to know that.
Hey, God.
Remember that conversation we had during Conversations With God?
I'm serious.
I want you to keep the people.
I just want the ability to break ground in my music, forever.
I want to love music again.
I hope my mother truly loved me.
Only you know her heart.
I pray that you guide my father.
He needs you more than I do.

But God, I might need you.
I believe you when you say vengeance is yours.
But I don't fuck with these niggas like that, Lord!
You know my worth.
Sometimes, it feels like only you know.
Lord, I'm sorry for revealing all The Illuminati's secrets.
I just wanted the real hungry trap stars and goths to eat.
Fuck, God!
They been eating off of us!
Harlem got bought by The Illuminati.
If I gave a fuck about it/him (A$AP Rocky), i would make a huge issue out of it.

Harlem is now a big ass gallow.
With the dangling bodies full of potential.
I would pray for them, but these niggas only want me for the wealth you protect me from/with.

I know I'm worth more than Brooklyn Girls.
These niggas should be ashamed to be so amped about that song.

It felt good to be the KONY.
But it feels better to be home.
Cleveland is my home.
NYC is my apartment.

But bless them, Lord.
They don't know better.

Blessings to my REAL New York peoples.
You'll know who you are.







~shout it out~

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