Off the top of my head...:
Why should I concern myself with another man’s worries?/
It seems like now and days people are dieing in a hurry/
Didn’t make right judgments, cause my vision was too blurry/
But it’s too late to turn back-‘Cause too many want to hurt me/
They want to hurt me, curse me, and burn me-
I swear to god, It’s like death is flirtin’ with me/
Learning on the inner city street blocks-
I strengthened from my surroundings like a single rose lifting through sheetrock/
Each man has his demons/
Some desire women and love while others desire another’s rocks’ gleamin’/
And the sounds of shouts as their glock steams/
All about releasin’ shots into cops as they dream/
But they say they aint got a bad heart/
“I just grew up where you’d get killed if you aint act hard”/
Each man struggles for dominance in either their darkness or light/
Will they live on morals and wisdom or take another man’s life?/
It’s the question that we all contemplate/
Share our love or beware our hate from the .45 at point blank/
Look into a mans eyes, are they warm or cold?/
Do they reflect the love or mirror their guns’ smoke?/
Think of all the times that you could have inflicted pain-
Now multiply it by the amount of times they’ve slit another mans’ wrists and veins/
-The amount of times that their lead has shifted brains/
-The amount of times that they cry at night/
-The amount of times that they killed another man out of spite/
-The amount of times that they contemplated death/
-The amount of times that they took another man’s breath/
As they reach for their pistols and clips-
The sweat beads roll down their face and lips/
They watch as the man ahead moves closer/
Then unsheathe the guns from their shoulder holsters/
As they start strollin up the street slowly-
A car full of enemies begins to dump their heat/
Taking seven-3 to the ribs, 1 above the eye and 3 through the seat/
As he bleeds from his wounds the others in the car creep/
Another man dies but no body realizes or weeps…
What good is it all if no body’s left?/
Homies all died just to ride; it’s a deep blow to ya chest/
You feel the pain but you can’t show/
Its rainin’ blood but you can’t be slow/
Either roll or get rolled on-
Feel the cold breeze blow till the smokes gone/
As he stumbles out the car, he falls to the street/
Take seven breaths and get back up on his feet/
Can’t let them catch him alive still-they killed five/
He fears he wont survive a second drive by/
As he runs down the block ignorin his wounds-
He suddenly stops and realizes this is not what he wants to pursue/
He falls to his knees-
Holds his head in his hands as a single tear runs down his cheek/
He wants to stop but now he’s in too deep-
All he wants to do now is forever sleep/
Never to wake up again in his living hell-
Say farewell to death’s smell and his surroundings of empty shells…
Explination Turned Story..
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Explination Turned Story..
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