"Should I call it world war III?//
Or 12.1.23.19 will sufforcate my degree//
And bring down my violent rhymes mercilessly//
Sometimes it get stoned but my mornings always//
See destruction before our powerles brothers remain between strays//
I hate us being the gang that pays for what many chase//
I pray for strength because my God doesn't favour a single being//
I keep this faith to get used to this steps sting//
If i had the power of realisation back in the days when my time paid rents of girls//
My soul could be the word that everybody says when meeting the everyday folks//
And i thank him for such a wonderful conservation//
I was born in times when whips only guided//
But as days melted in bloodstreams of life predictions many wondered around with no clue about gifts//
Of the recommended struggle//
Then i chose words to shuffle the gamble//
I travell years and i'm trying to wipe tears//
God give my heart courage to alter their gears//
Because everyone just can't visualise my detours to win the war//
I got a study to make naked//
I got war to win against the everyday red numbers and white pages lives//
Take a picture of my thug life but remember the suing part//
I'm cutting the long chains hence making shortcuts//
Cuff me but remember my minds is flexible
Torture me but remenber i'm bad in forgeting and revenge sometimes makes me happy//
Whatever comes along obeys my touch//
Don't hesitate i'm just a thug to tell what many hides behind written, unacomplished promises//
Just a quater mile away//
Someone out there is tripping and burning//
But this is not me, i can't be positive about rulling//
Though some are still bulling and selling//
I'm trapped in changing, not ilegal-fortune cruising//
I witnessed their guns pointing at my kilometers of truth telling//
And all I see is the hatred trending//
Fat dump ones death nursing and truth detortion babysitting//
I'm here and for war i'm lyrically, violently, spiritually preparing//
Just a few miles away from the gambling and ilegal dreams crashing//
I'm deafet-phobic//
Observe my basic//
We were raised under the common lie; Your dad was sick//
I'm just few miles away to conqure their logic//
I'm not God and treat me like dramatic, rough rhymes and be quick to pick//
Corruption seems epic and don't panic//
To hell with role categories//
I follow my damn remedies//
I apply million words strategies//
Keeping up with my enemies//
Because they give me favourable 12.1.23.19 deformities//
I'm with pages families//
I heard a knock but got saw nothing as i rested my palm on the handle//
I see empty promises//
Many goals and Degrees wilt under unfavorouble houses//
It seems like eveyone has to use that door//
I'm learning from the real core of life//
God bless it//
I wonder why i was painted black//
Earning grace is like going to hell and back//
I see dirty dreams and that's what i can proudly crack//
Mama raised a whole world alone and now i see fake smile returning and requesting some tips//
Back off with your lame approaches//
Go rest in the graveyard//
I'm on my feet like the sun//
I am the space and sand//
I see all just like stars but not above who rules the nature//
And we give thanks//
I'm just with my thugs requesting for a chance to return the expenditure//
Don't mistaken my prayer to their law layer//
I'm a thug till heavens calls my name//
Take picturers of rains and strains//
Keep your heart pinned to tracks of straight paths//
Some are just blesses of mediocrity but remember i'm not talking about the hand that takes and gives life//
In this life we strive but there's a corrupt hive which i hope to be granted a prayer full of machine guns to vanish//
I'm just against the dictating folks//
I play the game and i have to cheat and avoid the heat//
There's only a single gang to beat//
See their guilt from eyes of the homeless//
Even though some powerless words impress their murdering curse//
I got a quater million words to beat out the lame bless//
I got dozens of silent bullets//
I shoot on stages to make them afraid//
Even those secretly paid won't make me shy away from fighting//
I'm behind every piece of rhyme without fame but war against the one-mind-One house living//
They are reading but not believing//
And i continue with the killing//
A quater million words!
©lethal
L