Time To Play The Game...
 

Spinnin tha cylindrical, you can see the holes roll...
Only one of em is filled and that filling's stone cold.
No feeling in it, the destination doesn't matter...
Cuz when the primer's hit all discrimination's scattered.
Could be a nigga, a cracker, or even me or you...
Cuz when ya play the game, ya see with a clearer view.
All ya hate, all ya love, it all gets set aside...
The only thing that counts is whose turn is it to die.
Slam shut the chamber and put the barrell to ya head...
Pull back on destiny, see childhood, then ya dead.
Look down at ya self, lyin lifeless with ya brains all out...
As ya soul rises upwards but then quickly plummets south.
Cuz ain't no gettin ta Heaven at the end of this game...
Since ya death was suicide you'll burn in Hell's flames.

Ahhhhhhh, russian roulette if im right. Nice topic, pretty original, well written, flow could use a little work, syllable wise it was out a little but nothing major, vocab was straight, a little short to really grasp or get into, imagery was decent, writers voice could use a touch up but again, nothing too shabby, good transistion, held my attention, id of liked to see it lengthed out and more indepth but from whats there it was bad.

Not bad at all.

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