Can't You See It

Made this FULL song on my phone. Jesus Like Can't You See It (Lyrics) ::produced by Jesus Blanco:: Jesus Nature Jesus RawSkin Certified Jesus Jesus Mignon Slim Jesus ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Umm run it back Ok Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Jesus in the trap Uh ok, just another Jesus rap Jesus, Jesus Jesus Jesus Hello honey My gut skinny My feet funny I don't dougie I buy Huggies My son love me My nose stuffy, when his runny My hoe gully I rose for me My toes ugly My asshole muddy If I'm sick, I gotta tip, or leave the bowl bloody Pistol grip gold, bullets take my soul from me Police tryna get a hold of me Im fertilizing ovaries This some Jesus type of shit the wicked style that come from overseas Bitches bitch and suckas choke on me A pretty lady notice me Hopefully she openly My dick and brain just won't agree I'm so high, alright, baby doll my nose don't bleed Murder pussy vocally While I'm swerving down your local streets Wait, wait wait, wait, wait Wait, I'm cold like poles and Tony's frosted flakes My pinky froze, it's gaining weight, see it from outer space Open the gates for satan, Lucifer right down this way I love Lucy, do-si-do with angels I replace I find my wings and pray to God that I don't lose my faith Vibrating accolades that I obtained on battle day Listen, my bitch freaky, don't touch it I eat, a dirty beat, no Douglas Turn up, to the youth Bring da Ruckus It's the only thing I knew when I was coming up, the RZA kept the trunk dumpin' My tongue rugged I keep the funk thuggin My blunts onions This the type of shit that make you people move in public This the type of shit the chef been fillin' up the oven with Shawty whippin butter sticks Catch a shawty gut it quick Hunting fish, wondering why my tummy itch Running from the government Cover up my stutter when they ask me where my money is Prolly in Guantanamo, paying for the punishment of terrorist, impossible See em rockin coppin clothes Kickin me like soccer goals Killin off some hostage hoes Flippin rocks and obstacles Police knock and poppin chrome I'm duckin under foxy holes Growing locks and pots of gold and green Under God my holy seed One beyond the pope you see Yo holy ghost approach the seat So Jesus hold your son and groceries Fold your knees propose to me with folded weed and coco leaves Water, heat, and Ovaltine Pour codeine, I oversleep Morphine for my soldiers creeping Mexico just for the weekend Jeugan con muchachas en mañana, still perform the evening Soy Jesús, tú papa, fuck a formal greeting Abnormal corpses speaking