MILITANT - STREETS

MILLITANT SOLDIER. ADDICTED TO STRAPS. ALL I BUST IS STRAPS. THESE NIGGA BUST FIREWORKS. STILL A DIE HARD KILLA . STLL ADDICTED TO THE SMELL OF GUN POWDER. I LET THE GUNS TOKE LIKE A BLUNT. NON STOP BACK TO BACK CHAIN SMOKER. GOT THEM LINED UP LIKE A FIRING SQUAD. READY TO BLOW THEIR HEAD OFF LIKE A BALLOON. POPING THEM WITH BULLETS LIKE ITS TARGET PRACTICE. I LET THE BULLETS SPRAY LIKE RAIN DROPS FROM MY ASSAULT RIFFLE. HAVE THEM LAYED OUT FLAT LIKE SQERRELS. CLEAN SHOT ONE MAN ONE BULLET STRAIGHT BETWEEN THE EYE BROWS. NO SOUND JUST THE IMPACT OF BULLET PENETRATION AS THE BODY CRASHES ON THE GROUND. REAL GENERAL KILLING AINT PRETY BUT SOMEONE GOT TO DO IT. 40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS -STILL TRYING TO KILL A GHOST. SO I PUT THE FLIGHT TO MY HEAD AND TAKE OFF. STRAIGHT TO OUTER SPACE. ESCAPING REALITY. REAL GHOST BUSTER. DISINTEGRATION OF THE BODY IS DEATH. MY ONLY FEAR OF DEATH IS RESSURRETION IN THE LAKE OF FIRE. STILL I SPIT ROUNDS LIKE THE BARREL OF A NINE. NIGHTMARES OF GHOST TORMENTS. SO I TOKE THE BLUNTS TO CHANGE THE SETTINGS. PUFFING ON THE ANGEL DUST GOT ME CLOSER TO THE STARS. AM SO HIGH ON THE MOUNTAINS I CAN NEARLY TOUCH THE STARS.