Portrait in the Fortress

[Verse 1: Juicemega]
Place an order with the florist for the wake of these artists
Medieval slaughter, drawn and quartered by horses
My visage of course is
A picture painted, hung in the fortress
The visionary king of the forces of the Moors
I’m a boss kid
Can’t relate to what a loss is
A habitual line-stepper, I crossed it
But never apt to double back
Move straight forward, I run the track
Grays laced through the fade of this silverback
I chill and stack while bitches strip till they sag
Simp, I’m gorilla
The knuckles on my pimp hand drag
Berserker working with a fur-lined swag
I’m lavishly savage
Well-groomed and smooth until I’m letting em have it
I only know one definition of ratchet
The muzzle flash bright, son
This heat is not the type you wanna bask in
Robbins, mobbing to get the ice and the cream
My eyes emerald colored green
Looking for a place to hide, I’m seen

[Verse 2: Sal E Vega]