[SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS]

Throw borat on ya beats hoping outta body expeirence hits the creeps
deeps ya knees feed ya seeds monster machines, ralphel wouldn't paint in his day and age/
faded rage owned the claim "demon in the flesh" who you be the demon, the demon, the demon, the demon in the flesh, fledging outta heads twisted out spines/
left in diatribes open wounds makes tattered knives toast lives given satire wives driven out cha wombs be the tombs of a thousand souls meant to be gromed/