One Day

I could be a gunslinger. Muckraker. Easily destroy you with or without my words. Every day I must remind my heart not to coat over with ice. I think twice before I kill a man, unless thinking is no longer in my control. I don't hold grudges, i just don't let go of memories. I don't want to be a do-dirt nigga; but I want so hard to do dirt, nigga, so watch your fucking mouth. Not quite at the bottom but I'm still working my way out so do me a favor and leave me alone. No, I don't need anyone to take me home, take me out, take me back to your spot either. The only courtesy i need is a cigarette with my lighter; maybe a laugh on the subway or some shit. But don't try coming at me with your dick half out, pants half zipped; one of these day's i'll take the notion to cut off your happy ass prick, and slap you in the face. Shove that shit down your throat, see how you like the taste. Let me penetrate you. Double-fisted take you on some some sui-cyco shit. Don't fuck with me motherfucker, you'd better hope those gears don't click and those fucking cogs don't turn because once that red haze settles my memory's a blur and you're responsible for my actions. No witnesses to what happens; and i'll cut you, gut you, and pluck every fucking smug ass notion from your head until you see things my way. Or just don't see at all. So if you see me walking down the street, or skating around the mall, keep your mouth to yourself and your eyes in your fucking skull because my meter's going low, just short of running empty; and one of these days i'll be a gunslinger, so don't you fucking tempt me.