A Dirty Game

My homies eyes turned red as he bled from the gunshot.

Two blinks, one tear and then his heart stopped.

On the wings of an angel did his soul leave.

Time slowed down and then I felt a cold breeze.

As he bled, his blood spread like an oil spill.

Eighteen and he’s killed… now, that’s a raw deal.

Another son gunned down, another brother lost.

He balled hard on these suckas, then he paid the cost.

He couldn’t see the jealousy inside their eyes though.

My little homie lived fast but he died slow.

The irony is telling me that I should pump the brakes

but hateful thoughts begin to overtake.

I wanna up the stakes, take them to full throttle.

Pour the gas on, hang the gas out this ‘Lac

and get my smash on.

I could retaliate, but this cycle will never cease.

Immortal enemies, so we will never kill the beast.

That’s what they want; violence, destruction and blood shed

and won’t be satisfied until we’re laying all dead.

So I hold my head and keep it movin’ just the same.

Trying to keep my hands clean but it’s a dirty game.

– Jah Soul

 

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