Shop

A TALE OF SURVIVAL...

My mind screamed “hold it Tim”
look at the walls they closin’ in,
and though it seem as if all hope is dim,
I gotta find my opening’
They ain’t caught me yet,
I live a life with no regrets,
Its so intense,
Since tomorrow never comes i’ma live for the moment,
Especially because the hell hounds now know my scent,
They on my trail,
A night wolf with the reaper on his tail,
I got a secret to unveil,
They think they got me and the only way i’m leaving is gone to jail,
But these tricks up my sleeves is what life relies on,
and any chance to flee that i see bet that i’ma dive on,
Its garunteed that physically i exceed plus my mind strong,
And believe that i’ll succeed its in my breed to survive on,

so now i’m gaining ground,
no time for laying down,
no time to stay around,
can’t risk to hide cuz i might not make it out,
as they’re sealing off perimeters,
can’t shake this feeling and then it pops and when i burst,
tires squeeling as i’m peeling off, not in a hearse,
realize with whom they’re dealing’s got a sinister,
most intriguing plot as mission’s served,
I stay a step ahead and every step leave em a mile behind,
leave em up Shit Creek without a paddles breed design,
My route has been plotted with surgical precission,
My time won’t be spent locked in and serving in a prison,
Blazing towards the tunnels only light as the opening is shrinking,
Although i’m close what i’m thinking,
Is if i even studder or choke i face extinction,
Trying to cope with the fact that hope is just a vision,
Swallow hard from the back of my throat because i know theres something that i’m missing,
the story as a whole is yet to unfold and the plot has yet to thicken

So now i’ve dug myself a ditch in the quickest of sands,
Theres a glitch in the plan,
a mountainous pile of shit has hit the fan,
find myself rubbin’, strugglin’ as I admit my greatest wish to a lamp,
As i flip and twitch in my stance,
like a fish when its on land,
allowed myself to slip for a second-split i’m just a man,
at the end of my wits, to my stomach i am sick and i can’t,
mentally conceive escapin this sticky situation,
i got sick of being patient,
now these wrists are being placed in,
cuffs its just “click” “click” no escaping,
oh well i guess the run was good while it lasted,
i had the opportunity to choose good and i passed it,
and look how that went,
labelled as an inmate, which places my mind in a place,
to divise while in a state,
of crisis as I innovate,
and the story of my life might get picked up by FOX when its time to PRISON BREAK,

Currently unavailable for purchase



Comments

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait