The streets...the streets. That's all I know of. The heroin is white, just like a dove. I want to shoot up, sometimes I want to die. I know I'm a tough one, but everyone cries. I would cut deep, cut slow. Just to see the blood flow. I would shoot up now, shoot up later. Everyone that tried to help me, I considered them haters. Gunshots here, gunshots there. The funny thing is, I was never even scared. I would pick up my 40, watch you get shot in the head. You should turn it around on me, because I wish I was dead. You say you know me, but do you really? I would look for attention, someone to touch and feel me. I miss you sunny, this goes to show. But right now I need to learn to forget and let go. I have no one, to cradle to my needs. Things everyone else would consider greed. I'm trying to learn, to leave my past in my past. To learn from my previous mistakes, and to not repeat the last. So this is my closure, to my old life. But I'll still have my protection, my gun and my knife.