The God I serve, the blood I shed, wounded, looking intently;
to lose my spot, to pass my torch, like a sacrifice;
to handle a problem, to become an issue, in the ghetto the way we effect game.
I heard it, it was distinctive, it triggered a feeling, made intricate by fire.
To die loving pain, to resurrect like joys, flaming inside, the Ghost riding.
It could have been paid off, one last move, I had a partner at God’s WORK.
It hurts to see you, knowing we lost big, we abandoned trust, how the fuck we living?
I stood on it. It was remarkable. I have that between us.
I never understood them. It turns me. Late night becoming a myth; sipping, disappearing, so selfish, Lord, to have her, Lord, the mud bleeding it.
I used to hold ideals. I now hold jungles. So close to a damn animal.
If I ever saw it, it was us, so close, like it never meant shit.
We owe God, could have drowned, I’d never speak the reason—I remain silent.
