hellison shmellison
run run run run run run run run run, urn in hand, filled with coke and skag, making trades, hiding blades, hi top fades, puerto rican maids. Im sweating out my eyes and they are black, black, rings, holes spaced out to the end of the galaxy. I need, i want, here i go down the road, hiding the load, there goes the cops down the block in black crown vic, shriveled prick, banging my head to the sound of my heart. I go for the trunk but theyre watching. I go for the house, locked…
gots to hide, gots to get a fix on, gots to get my head on right….. last night another fight throwing drugs at the door as i laugh wildly moving out with what i needed. Dont look panicked, sure feeling the beads now, fogging up my shades, my mind. soul?
nope. just powers and pills popping in my stash urn, its mu uncle you see officer he needs to be in a safe place, my family is after his ashes so thats why im running. Oh yea im out of shape too thats why my clothes are stuck to me and a shade darker from sweat. just smile, take it in, and then………… GO!
