People ask how I’d paint myself.

It’s not how I’d paint myself…

Rather, it’s how I actually am.

It’s the thoughts in my head.

The way I move, shadows casting.

It’s who I am on the inside, my mind.

It’s the things I turn over in my head.

I’d paint me in blood.

Red, crimson dripping.

Big brushes, fine boys.

Stick shift, mustangs.

Hand on the wheel,

Smirking your way.

Shades on, look my way.

I’m big boss Bowser.

And you’re salivating.

Thinking about me,

Hand on your trousers.

Innocent grin, I warned you.

Said I was trouble in heels.

Laughed, shook your head.

Nine to your temple,

Let it blow! BLOW!

Darkness in your eyes.

Clouded, death is near.

Crooked spine,

Coming up behind.

Big fat crown on tight.

Diamonds dripping right.

Me? Never scared of a fight!

Erasing you and your family.

AK-15 pop, pop, popping.

Reracking, fascinating…

Watch your body blow.

Rocking to and fro.

Chills are racing,

Dust down the countryside.

Where no one will find you in time.

Taking the mask off, you’ll die anyways.

You can see the real me…

Only if I let you.

You can see the real me…

Only if you die first.

You think the devil has horns?

Honey, she’s got a ponytail.

Golden hoop earrings.

In heels and MK jeans.

You think the devil has horns?

That’s a sweet child’s version.

She carries a jagged knife.

Gutting people on her lawn.

People ask how I’d paint myself.

It’s not how I’d paint myself…

Rather, it’s how I actually am.

It’s the thoughts in my head.