Wrong turns lead me to a circle of disparities in which my life’s lies make it clear that they ain’t scared of me. Face me like a man, they say taunting in the wind again. I try to run but then, this is where my life sentence ends.
Never hit a jail cell, I was too clever for it. If I didn’t have the guts, hit knees, ask the devil for ’em. Pedal for him, since he gave me all the work. But the pay led to diamond laces chains upon my shirt.
For what it’s worth, I would trade it all in a minute of clarity then beg for it back, thats whats scaring me. The people I keep near to me, I chase just to hold them. But they’re barely held conscious from all the shit that I sold them.
A crack head, my best friend. A crack head, my mother, my sister, my brother, no others could stand to be around me. They see me as sub-normal. Subliminally, sick of me and typically the knife in the back of a trusting lover.
So now I look in the mirror, all I see is a dead man walking around with jewelry and money, frown on him, blood dripping down his left hand.
Heart beat slowing down, I feel my life running thin..thin enough to blow my soul in the wind. Blow my sin through the window of dismal and fucked over; this where the love’s sober.
A bullet in my back makes me see in true light-form. I feel my body giving in; no tunnel, no life-forms. No staying away from no lights just pitch black with a hint of red. Am I in hell? No that’s just a blood drip.
This is what I lied for? To steal cars and buy more? To steal lives from sick wives to get by with my whores? Tell family fuck you, ’cause this mine, so buy yours? It’s my fault. I know that. This, my life, to die for.