Death Cult

I got a lotta dreams but this is a difficult one I shoot em with stories with a mythical gun Ink bloodbath i spray em with paragraphs I got more shells than the whole sea has Sawed off stories with blood it's so gory But the pens the only weapon in dirty laboratory I got clips full of periods, commas, and dramas I'll end your history like Fukuyama With verbs and adjectives I'm angrily blasting The mag spit blasphemous putting angels in caskets My sniper scope shooting out poetry and stanzas To give a head shot to the hopeless propaganda I'm involved with, 6 shooter revolvers Full of nouns, vowels, verses, bars, and sonnets AK in my left hand, uzi in my right Blasting constant consonants all through the night A desert eagle with 8 stories about to take flight A bazooka with a fable, the bread and the dog bite ARs in the school but we don't get the lesson A death cult with violent metaphors we're obsessed with Allegories of hate will always keep expressing A country built on genocide, slavery, oppression The pen or the sword, the pen made the nuke The pen can manifest the evil that we do The pen can write the good, the pen can write the bad My pen just writes the truth, it's all that i have