A drop of your blood
maybe even mixed with his too
would make this fatal recipe
part of me and you
add a few screams
with a hint of a few tears
a dash of cut skin
and a big pinch of fears
a few sad faces
cold dead bodies
police involved who say that
you died of taking shotties
phone call at 3 in tha morning
a big scream of dispair
questions running through minds
angels looking down at people who cared
all this stuff mixed in a pot
with maybe a big ol' tree
mix it with a spoon and
you have the perfect fatal recipe
 
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