fruit crushed on the concrete

Runnin' through the streets Looking for a tree God told me not seek My legs are gettin' weak I see the fruit crushed on the concrete A snake lay by my feet Then he asks: "Are you scared of me?" Couldn't fuckin' speak I hear the apple fucking whispering I say fuck it Take a bite Jesus Christ Think I'm boutta die See a fuckin' light Glock by my side I can't die tonight God is fucking crying "What are you doing?" I say "You'll be fine" Grip tight on the Glock Aim at his head Let the pistol pop Scream up at the sight God is dead And it's all my fault Satan speaks again "You regret?" Not at fucking all Brains up on the wall I need help, I can't fucking walk My prayers go unsolved Just as the concrete starts to talk