Driven by the divine fuel
Speeding and drifting through the evils
where it’s glorified as the cool
And the truth and the good
is labelled as evil and cruel.

They said it was mission possible
if I clevely cruised through the evil like tom.
False prophets shooting up my vehicle
making their french guns violently hum
“Ceci Est pour vous”
For exposing their deceptive miracles.

Bullets penetrating
my porshe nine eleven.
I lifted the suicidal doors
jumped out the ride,
rolling onto the side pavement.
Suffered bullets wombs going into my thighs
Watching my car burst into flames
Right before my very eyes.

I ran inside a parisian heavenly club
The bartender told me to stop
If i go back out there, you'll violently flop.
The bartender called himself God
he slid over the table
The truth formed like fine wine
in a golden vintage cup.

I was convicted by one sip of the truth
But my bullet wombs were cured
now i am capable
to go back outside
And face the false prophets
that have seduced society
for their own deceptive pride.

© L.A.T.A/@josephleartist