I sit here and pick up my pen, write something so sick it could simply make your head spin, I draw blood like a medical syringe, see the flames rise like hell on your hair and singe. I see you drinking your bottle never kicking the binge, now death knocks at the door , hes sharpening his blade again. Step into the Ring with the King delivered a knockout with deaths deadly sting.

So heres something to the rhyme, is digging your own grave a crime
death is here to take its time , a slow cold heart buried is what you'll find.
So Lil wayne, eminem, and dre are all rappin' rhymers , But my God is the master designer, best leave up it to me or you'll be walking out with a shiner. Never been a 49er , im a colts fan peyton manning for all you old timers.

The key to my victory and great sucess came from the death of one who had nails pierce his flesh. One that hung high on a cross to bless
all those to which profess a life that I possess. Who is a fool to think that I could sink into the depths of hell without a blink of an eye, I come to stand tall thats what I do for ya'll take into account all the lives that fall victim to worldly warfare, terrorist threats bomb scares, electric chairs, brutal torment of worldy affairs. 

 We Live on a planet , that just says dammit who gives a crap if we die I can no longer stand it. I'm reading the news and its another slaying
we'll we can only hope the world is still praying. Will we get out alive,
everyday is a war that we seek to survive.

This is a cold world of brutal assassins, osama bin ladens, Hitler, and Stalin and the KKK we kill in a world that cannot obey. I wish that you would pray that more lives would be saved if they seeked the way. Will we ever make a place for worldly peace, or rest deep with the dead with their bones and sleep unassured if this war will ever end. I know where im going when I die , its to be with Him.

All Rights Reserved: Todd Fletcher 8/26/2010