Corey Threet

Rookie - 0 Points (Buffalo, New york)

Xeniyah Presents: His Story: The Getaway: Part 3 The End? (C) 2-2-10 - Poem by Corey Threet

They walked in the house to find the enemy they sought so long
He felt bad him bein his friend but he know the show must go on
Two guns directed at the nigga and its amazing his shiverin
His face looks as though it’s a baby the nigga’s deliverin
Well what you waitin for the trigger is rested under yo finger and
We gotta do this real quick man I don’t know why you lingerin
He wanted to pull it but his fingers just wouldn’t give pressure
He felt like a pirate that ended his voyage but won’t open the treasure
“Yo shoot this nigga or Imma be the one takin yo kill
Do it now nigga or this mess is really bouta get real”
“Shut up dude I got this kid don’t worry bout me
Alright just target and shoot come on before he out me”
“Nigga it’s not enough time to be messin around he’s dead”
“Nigga shut up before I put this bullet clear in yo head! ”
I can’t believe this nigga really had the nerve to say this to me
I’m really bouta make this nigga another part of history
He gon be the next nigga on a list to be
The most wanted cold case unsolved mystery
A three way gun point they stare in disbelief
This really was supposed to be an easy victory
But now the tables turned Loc’s breath fades away
They’re confused as to why they’re turnin on each other
But for two of these young soldiers this is the end of their days
See sadly none of them know the real truth of the matter
That regardless if they put the guns down blood still will be splattered
It’s not the point for the murder to occur by the three
This is the Game and unbeknownst to them the murderer is me
An awkward silence filled the room and the shivers made change
But the shivers were soon overpowered by the sound of Bang! Bang!
Dame fell to the floor and fires of gun shots returned
Cryin and wishin he could leave cause now his soul burned
It was pitch black but the flash of the gun gave a brief image
Once enemies now lined up to gather as a line of scrimmage
Dame reached for his gun but decided this time not to be a fool
But its cool because he had died already under my rule
They tipped the couch over and surely they thought cotton to be metal
But that’s not the point, the fact is I got a hunger to settle
Loc looked to the left and saw his partner bleedin
A paramedic he needed but he could just lay screamin
Loc exited out the back and I walked over to them
Crawlin and brawlin over the door, I’m just gonna shoot him
Dame’s eyes couldn’t believe that was its last sight
Bang bang, now I got my last killin tonight
Loc made his escape it was now 11: 57: 29
Almost out of time, better find a flight to Mexico on Southwestern Airline
Because now I’m comin after you and vengeance is mine
Maybe shoot out his legs or his arms or his chest or his spine
Either way I’m gettin mine and its 11: 59: 32
Wow a days feast in a matter of minutes, but I don’t mean to worry you
Loc figured that he was safe in the abandoned place
The tears fell onto the broken floor from his branded face
It was a shortsighted view but I know longer was on the spot
But bang I chose the head Loc died 12 o’clock on the dot
Well I started my next day two more deaths as I sit away
Now who should I spray maybe I should be someone else’s getaway


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 2, 2010


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