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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Caught up in a wicked game where inflicted pain leaves a twisted brain We all playing on different levels with different devils scheming with demons man everyday it's the same In the streets we compete, we do it for the love of the sport, like Allen Iverson even though I hated practice the fact is still I never missed a game When its go time its show time but the wins & losses here shows it costs to care, them shooters carry tactics & the snipers in the air got vicious aim I know any friend of me could bring an end to me So I observe beyond the surface places they go & tend to be To the way their faces glow when their hatred shows, I can see the nervousness in their tendencies I pay attention see, & know what's coming before they ever even mention me And while I'm viewed as hopeless or at least I pretend to be They're losing their focus sinking to their lowest, drowning in that Hennessy Now let's begin the show for both friends & foes, as we get back to the topic of profit & how it's a risk for gain Life's an everyday circus followed by dark clouds, roaring thunder, heavy mist & rain From the crowd still hear the stereo sounds playing on the burial grounds, becoming the latest victims of this twisted game Shaking hands on forsaken land not knowing where we stand is the land in which the wicked claim And the s a shame that we treat life like the s a game But reality is we'll all fade soon we can't evade doom I already carried the world on my back til I damn near collapsed & felt pain in both shoulders like it was game over, chasing the record so close but no toast playing this game of life in the arcade room But with no more credits or coins in my pocket so now it's open season for the next to line up with a shot to try & top it cuz my run is done & unable to continue due to me missing change.
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