Bus Benches

Shhh
There he goes, tonight's man
The one who's putting gods smile back upon my hands
The plan this evening is hiding behind leaves and brush
Quiet the breathing hush wait for the right time to rush
Grab your man by the forehead, slid the device across his throat
I'll hold him tight while he chokes, 8, 9, count to 10 drop the body rip the pockets
Come ups, cash and plastic wrapped rockets, hey mister mister you think that you're the shit
But you looked really funny when you felt your tendon rip
There's a thin line between fire and fear, hey mister never should have set your shop up here
Cause I've been thumpin' chumps that push dumps to zombie tree stumps
Big man on the avenue becomes mommy's little speed bump
And this punk was easy, must've hated spinach
And the pigs all smiled they never like you to begin with
Ain't trying to be the man no more, cause I'm a man now
About to take your crew to war, I got a plan now
I'm used to blood and death outgrew the gut wrench
So tell the devil I said fuck him when he finds you on the bus bench