Miracle. Shape of the barrel is spherical. Put to my head got me shoutin’ lyrical. Clever maniac, brainiac with skills pullin up on you like I no lack. Layin’ on the ground feelin pricks like thumbtacks. Red bead on my head, countin’ the seconds before I’m dead. Shoulda stayed in school cuz I coulda spoke at Ted. Now I’m filled with lead, leakin like a sieve. Woulda been better to die of the HIV. Can’t see my beginning or end, but I got one text left to send. It’s true my heart won’t mend. Prolly sendin’ to a dude who can’t depend. Death fillin’ my lungs, last gasps, pour out a drink from the cask and say a prayer for my aunts. My eyes close. I suppose it’s how death goes. You’d stick a knife in me, many holes. Let the death of me bring sight to thee as you try to figure out how I’m literally alive in the face of calamity. That’ll be. 187 from the cop that owes me. He’ll take a fee, shotgun blast to the face and he claims self-defense, I’m free. No more pain and this tale needs to end. Film it, chop it, make it rend. Start over again.