Lock and load
Duck down
When you hear the sound of one hundred rounds tear your house to the ground
That's how they are getting down downtown
We're k**ing over color and were heaven sent and hell bound
Father wasn't around to beat me down
So I'm a conscious less psychopath on the streets of a ghost town
Bodies slumped on their steering wheels
Brains climbing from their mouths
Muscles protruding from their wounds
Like even they want out
Nobody gets out
Nobody ever makes it out
And before I drew my head from the c*nts mouth
One foot was in the grave
They're dying so young where I come from
It's gun or be gunned
Run or be ran over
Man over man
Foolhardy as they come
As kids we skipped the fun
Fascinated with numbers, and ways we could make them run
Unaware we had just hung the possibility of a kosher become
It's so damn dark out here
Hailstones blot out the sun
Bodies, buried atop on another
Cutters, keep on hacking up my brothers
They're letting shots loose
From Sacramento to Syracuse
And I dreamt I put it all behind me
Then I awoke to...
Sounds of busting guns
Bullet holes in lungs
Taste your guts sliding off of your tongue
Tendons, bone fragments lodged in your gums
Mothers praying for the health of her son
Sickens me, what we've become
Bodies, buried atop one another
Cutters, keep on hacking up my brothers