damn, am I poisened by life or did I poisen life?
My home boys in strife for murdering with a toy knife
rubber blade, mother says let the trouble graze
past your head and behind you, never returning
but I dig a whole so deep, hells close, forever im burning
cleverly turning back and walking towards the future
severly burning crack and stalking a lords disputes but
Ill carry you on my back, to leave one set a foot prints
throw you in a hole, I guess death is your prince

blah