| We begin our story in L. A
|
| Our player’s on a mission: a mission of revenge
|
| In a small town, a fire breaks out
|
| Shots pierce the air, and a massive killing spree begins
|
| Is this just a random act of senseless violence
|
| Or is this story deeper?
|
| Is there a reason behind these psychotic actions?
|
| Welcome to the mind of a contract assassin
|
| Whose time has just run out
|
| And whose fate will be decided, by you, the listener
|
| Running like a bat out of Hell with blind fury
|
| Hundred-yard dash, smoking mirrors, eyes blurry
|
| Hit the porch bleeding red, seven dead, two in the trunk in the back
|
| Scanning through the goggles for the Cadillac, left it running
|
| Swiveled my body to the sound of shots, cocked back
|
| And let them fly, bullets screaming, left leg bleeding heavy
|
| Ducking the sounds of the Chevy that pulled up to the lawn
|
| Breathing heavy from the smoke?
|
| Jump in the passenger side and hit the pedal?
|
| ? |
| ride, I’m half-gone
|
| Leather is hot from sitting the sun
|
| The chrome burning my leg? |
| puddles of red
|
| Screeching out, rubber smoking, I’m ghost, the wheel is broken
|
| The door is half-open, my lung? |
| air chokin'
|
| Sick the chase kicks this way
|
| I’m headed to a small town, just outside the city walls of L. A
|
| Destiny ridin', just a matter of time
|
| And put it all behind me, bullet holes and bodies
|
| Motels and lobbies, ? |
| hell find me
|
| I’ll be inside the arms of fate hiding
|
| Can’t run from nothing, I’ll just keep fucking
|
| Search and kill, ducking 'til they’re all gone
|
| Got to do something, can’t just keep running
|
| I swear to God I won’t stop the song
|
| This road driving got me bugging got me seeing vision
|
| This company dealing got me killing children and women, holy God forgive me
|
| Now I’m headed to save the very seeds of life
|
| ? |
| hands of time supposedly outliving my husband and kids
|
| They caught him in a Krispy Kreme on the fly
|
| For leaving the company without a reason why
|
| They said they’d relocate me to Hell, put my mama in jail
|
| I fuck around and leave them all to Satan making a bail
|
| Associate’s supposed to get me guns but he switched
|
| Found him bloody on a windy Sunday, deep in a ditch
|
| I travel from motel to motel, steal whips and kill
|
| And cover tracks, laughing, pull off quick
|
| Dump the Caddy for a black Impala
|
| Slit the neck of a collar or a priest
|
| And then a deacon and then I sped off east
|
| Reach a rest stop, made out with the cook
|
| Snapped his neck, took the truck and bounced and nobody looked
|
| Sitting in this car sniffing coke on a dash
|
| Tinted windows, Isaac Hayes blast, mind a million miles a second
|
| Clothes wrecked hands bloody, brains on the seat
|
| Range and Honda and a Dodge Viper parked next to me
|
| The motion sensor lights dimmed well
|
| The stove lit, twelve butts, three lines, and one L
|
| Contemplating suicide, the drugs got me wildin'
|
| Complicated of the thoughts, the tears are flying
|
| I’m thinking rush the door finally found the kidnappers thinking
|
| Wait 'til 4 then bust in and start clapping
|
| Should I go? |
| Should I stay? |
| Should I wild? |
| Should I wait?
|
| If you choose to rush out the door now, please choose track #7
|
| If you choose to wait in the car and think of a plan until 4:00,
|
| please choose track #3 |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chapter One: Destiny, artist - Jean Grae. Album song The Bootleg of the Bootleg, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп