Staring with a cold face, thoughts Subliminal
Its hard to look in the mirror everyday to see a Criminal
Got two guns, a 9 in one hand and a 45 in the Other
Got two shells, One in the chamber and one in my Brother
Its more distinct, More Fainter..more bright, More Tainter
As I begin to draw first blood like Gore Painters
Triggers realeased, you hit the ground with a Hollow Sound
Gunsmoke all around, empty shells Follow Down
Watching your blood spill out with flashbacks of Past Deaths
Your heart races as you take your Last Breathes
Locked behind lead bars, sitting without Remorse
My DNA found on ya body, I fucked Your Corpse
I move away from imprisonment with my back Towards Winds
Walking with a purpose, looking for Gore Again