Police reports signed one eight seven
Brutalized and beaten, shotgun heaven
Innocent victim's life cut short
Guilty bastards sent to jail from court

I've been beaten and battered and torn
My insides have been ripped out and worn
You may not have literally killed what I am
But you certainly left me in a jam.

Not quite dead, yet not quite alive
Leaving me left with what you contrived.
Nothing on the inside and nothing on the out
Waiting for something to stop this route.

You may not have taken away my heart's beat
But you've left me unable to believe more than deceit
I'm still breathing, barely more than alive
But you stilled killed me, 187: homicide
 
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