Patter

You so-called lyricist I am though you a genius so called scientist

I can flow like water in a land where it's hot and cold

So called journalist I am writing till my hands are swollen

Out of control thoughts unfold but they are in control though

How? easy a praying soul for the who knows I'm not brainwashed

I can't remain simple because I serve God my bodies the temple

Kricesoulja the mental spirits transparent Christ controls me

The pencil he erased the virus sin then restored me back

It was meant to be or not be become that Trinity inside of me

Kricesoulja inside of the Earthadox combination is blessed

To resurrect my brothers from mess I talk straight to the