Blood will have blood, there’s no stopping a war after the first slug//
To these thugs, they aint people, aint no one human past a third cuz//
With no girl, no love, no hopes, no dreams, no aspirations//
My own life’s not so precious, death becomes a subject of fascination//
The Bible’s machinations, being used for racism and facist hatin//
How can God expect love from starving Africans watching others die and waitin?//
If my loved one’s gone to a better place, then why do I still feel pain?//
Is it selfish? I want them to myself, my loss is no one’s gain//
Death is not a period, there is no new sentence to start//
Suicide used for recognition, “Spoke of with reverence thou art.”//
Rich kids wanting a struggle, yearning to be gangsters and deal with death//
Still with breath, boy tells mom he loves her, while slit wrists cover her silken dress//
How good can heaven be, that it’s the cause of so much pain and misery?//
Rather than leaving individually, I’d rather stay here with my friends and family//