It was just a friendly crossfire,
a shot from the days in the club.
then one from the nights in a hub,
but now bonds are in the cross-wire.
Itchy finger trigger happy,
the boiling sense - swing your axe,
the softer skin - do the coax,
push and lose, it's cruel, no hobby.
Time for truth n honesty,
prefer woods to city of angels,
where buzz is the cosmetic gels,
better hate than blinded amnesty.
Right! You're the blessing mother,
with strength from a million decades.