My hands on the wheel, the light in my sight
The kids that are crossing are 3 feet in height,
My tiptoes are trembling, I'm seeing all white
Then red in with blue, surrounding the night.
My eyes have gone blurry, I pressed on the breaks
I couldn't believe it, confusion while baked,
I got out the car, and slammed on the door
I saw all them kids, their blood on the floor.
My feet aren't ready but ready for running
My hands are still reaching for God and a gun in,
I shouldn't resist, but I shouldn't be caught
I couldn't believe, everything is my fault.
The people feel panic, my posture's positioned
Periods surround me, within deposition,
My hands on the ground, they kiss the cement
The gun in my car, by the wheels and the fent.
The shadows grew close, my fingers were tensed
I quickly stood up, and grabbed my P10,
The others pull children right off of the street
the fragments of faults, fall apart at my feet.
