close to down town and guns are round n found slugz hit ya nose
shots ring to tear air cuz why die if death is all of gods plots
chose death breath fine die by ak45 you gone but nobody knows
streets feel heat compact with steel fleets of the red spots
style in own denile of fryle combile bust shots in my own bile
taking foes breaking nose bombarded keys n hatin hoes
nothing to do but chill bill with the will to still have the gats file
by any mans necessary his necessities are now his foe
only if the holy condoly god stop war as a far essence of man
then we can blend n mend human relationships as humans
just for once we can sullivate our world into shots n clans
because soon our own presevite devite health well be doomed in
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