Red and blue lights flashed the dashboard
He hit the gas, swore to God
That if he made it through the odds
He would quit the game
Forget his name, obtain a new
But inside, he knew that was a lie, he understood
Born inside the cemetery called the hood
He was a living coffin called a gangster
There was no way to outlive his nature.
Scraping the bottom of the gun’s barrel
He was trying to find clips for his life
But everything was static
His body was a house of cards,
Slowly but surely there was nothing but toys in the attic
Doorbell dashed death’s door
Now he’s forced to knock and hope that life answers
The lights catch up and his shadow lengthens
He feels the cars ram
Death is feeling tempting
The fuel is nearly empty
He leaves the car and scrams
Through the alleys where no wheels could reach
His will was weak, but his body was autonomous
He heard the feet follow, every step was thunder
Every tear was rain, every beam was lightning
He quickly glanced aback
All he saw were chains.
Everything was frightening
He felt a bullet fly, he wished that he could fly away
He gave so many highs, “I want to hide away,
I want to see tomorrow. I’m sorry for the sorrow,
Just let me live today.” A bullet came his way
Penetrated his skull
Generated the blood
That would water the streets
Make another thug bloom
Make a motherless seed
Make two brothers dehisce
Plant the gardens with weed
Root the pavements with crack
A perennial night
Where the roses are black