Still Here, Bitches

Still here, bitches. Wipe your mouths. You've been talking too slick.

All that "maybe he's gone" shit turned sour real quick. I took weeks

off the grid. You got nervous like a snitch. Now I'm back swinging axes through

your skulls 'til they split. Heard you whisper that I quit. Heard you praying

for that day. Heard you telling all your buddies that I finally slid away.

Like I folded from the pressure, like I rotted in the clay. But I was

loading ammunition while you posted every day. I don't dip. I reload.

I don't fade. I explode. I don't wander off the map, I drag the