The language of god

I eat ya raps up like a big hitter  
But No rusty bike I’m pushing up this hill  
Its a baby killer .  
 
Your speaking my language  
Your music makes me move  
 
I’m dead asleep when at the dead I’m spitting  
but at night I sleep in a bed that they’ve all spit in  
 
Fuck it Makes me blue  
when I feel you make you own beats
you don’t run from the blues  
 
I’m kind and good  
just like you  
I’m made from evil too .