A gun and some
bullets, you know what to expect,
Blooded hands
and rotten wounds, and darker and the dark nights,
Those rainy days,
those cruel beings, some cruel intentions and the gang fights.
I lead a life of
riches and of gold, with beautiful babes and many wooden souls,
And what I live many
call it life,
Ah! So wrong they
are, that's the thing for what I throb.
Day and night I make
many dead, some by me and some by my men.
For once I never
make any mistake,
As I had led my heart
into the cascade.
I don't wear the mask
of God, and I do not deceive whom I kill,
The wounds I make,
the blood I spill,
I let them see my
face of ''The Evil''.
The road I
had chosen was more dark than light.
The trees on the way
were made of gold, whose fruits I can admire, but cannot bite,
Blood was readily
available to drink, but a humble drop of water was out of sight.
I lie beheaded
today, in a pool of blood, rotten and decayed in a garbage lot.
Killed by my own to
whom I once fed,
''You too Brutus'',
like once Caesar said.
This is the journey
of a Gangster's life, his evils, his lusts, his deadly
might,
It ends like nothing, not even a bit,
Pray he gets the
life, bestowed with an holy spirit.
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