Ready to die, content with death. Facing the fence with a gun to my head. Reflecting on my life, making my peace and looking back. Murdered in Brookland, find my body on red line tracks. Barking his orders with the heat of his gun. Wishing he'd do it, I need a new plan. About to settle and compromise with the chips of my life. I’ll forge my own path, make my own rules and keep my own time.
Гуру Песен