Not speaking location, birth place or heritage
But genetic sentences
Artificially tampered by private military scientists
Emulated and pooled, then trained then schooled
Black water is what they contained you in
Your mother was a number,
Father a legend
Calm when metal with deadly intent fell from the heavens
Embrace the truth
You were born to be a weapon
Economic hit men were paid for hire
But you were coded to act on desire
Mercy on Mary,
For the birth of this Mercenary
Love is a corrupter of Politics
It makes men honest
And fucks up the distribution of profits
Love makes war break even
Makes the powerful powerless
And powerless even
Mankind’s original agreement
She leans towards the lighter
He conjures a fire in hopes of a better view
She says with her Cigarette ignited
As is the organ that holds his lungs united
There’s a heat housed inside his humanitarian heart
And a hell-fire hidden inside his hostile head
Outside of a Marxist Gentlemen’s club
The crisp song of the ashes burning
Along his vocals for revolution
How the people are turning
And western ideologies aren’t working
No mane, but a Lion already
How can man and beast be so equal?
Rehearsed in guerilla warfare
And a Man of the people
Admiration places a rouge kiss
She says she’ll miss him
But will follow the news
He thanks her for brief company
And nominates her his muse
They Share a cab ride
Two destinations become one
Drinks at the Lion’s Den
Another cab ride
And she finds herself in the Lion’s Den
She didn’t need to shoot,
No need for a smoking gun
He left a note and his scent
Saying Two months from now,
He’ll be Most Wanted and on the run.
The night lights look real nice, but they don’t bring heat
Gentlemen offer their jackets, but her dress is too graphic
Let them see
Let the eyes of cameras have it
As women appeal to God,
Where Jealousy is the Jury
And the courts are in havoc
Do you realise the consequences?
Did you consider the damage that will ensue?
You just started war in a city full of veterans.
Bodies are showing up from all corners, with your scent on em.
The victims are hunters, made men and executioners..
And you think you can just show up and single-handedly take on my city?
There are rumours on the lips of bitches, and tongues of witches..
They say you were born with a defect.
It seems you are missing a very human mechanism,
A heart they say. A woman with no heart.
Well I can tell you this..
Some quantities of ammunition were produced in a soviet factory,
Just as the wall in Berlin fell.
This particular batch found itself on the E55 headed into Germany where,
An Italian gentleman matched the items with a set of sub-machine firearms.
This was then sold on to a counterparty with interests in vice,
And with partners in the US.
It was then shipped, and found way to the ports of the East Coast,
Where my associates do business.
And it just happens, that you enter my city, and decide to play games..
Games you seem to have mastered.
We specialise in multiplying assets, and muscling in on competition.
We are market leaders, and merchants of vice.
Real bastards with no sense for cognitive ritual between people..
And yet you find a way to paint a darker tone over our blackened hearts.
This so called word, Love,
Has no place, nor is welcome in our affairs.
So tell me, why did you bring it to our table?
That shipment of old Soviet arms was destined for you my love.
Every bullet has a portrait of your face on it,
Every trigger will embrace just to taste you.
This city used to belong to the five families..
And it is to my knowledge, that you currently dwell in the Black Hand club,
Down on Jerusalem Boulevard.
A car has been assigned..
Filled with heartbroken killers clutching at mechanisms of your peril.
Only the traffic of the night is between us..
But worry not, for we will be reunited soon..
When the doormen will fall in angelic shower of led,
And you are found seated whilst the music salutes you under neon light.
Let this night be my gift to you.
You were First To Shoot,
But I can assure you,
That the reign of Men will be the last to lose,
In this love tragedy that we find ourselves in.
Adieu, my Lady..
“To shoot the Suit that suits the fruit of her eye
Gentlemen, what a pleasant evening,
My work here is done, let the firewood tell it’s final stories,
Let the candle make it’s last supper”
“A city full of knights that have never been to war and princesses that fair no different from whores..”
“Don’t fall for my charm, even a poison apple can appear sweet on the witch’s palm..”
“Where you going with them bags girl?
How many of their hearts are in your hands girl?”
Love is rent, and his payment is overdue
She draws the weapon from car compartment
And makes way to the apartment
Who knew a midnight text
Would have his room blown over like semtex
All debts are paid
An Angel sends a deadly blessing
And let other men take this message as a lesson…
First To Shoot
Men raise flags and she whispers to the wind
Her campaign of lies has Caesar marching out with his forces
And Empires fall like leaves unwatered
In deep remnants, she escapes his imperialism for independence
Even Alexander couldn’t conquer a heart so Helmand
Provinces untouched, a promise never to be undone..
Mistake the wedding aisle for death row
On his knees for the executioner’s final blow
Propose to engage in deadly ties
Exchange vows and divorce bullet from gun’s mouth
Confetti falls like empty shells to semi-automatic song
Golden rounds on the floor
Marked with manufacturer codes
Dates, Occasions, Places
And names of lovers lost in her war…
“She looks in him for fire, but not to be burned..”