Peer pressure pleasure.

As I recall this dreary October 31st I feel a sort of thirst pump though my vains that pass though planes when the face of peer pressure shows its ugly pleasure. 

The boyz showed up as shadows bleeding a dark aura status that was for  a peak. Never a need for anyone to speak we just kept flowing down the billowing streets. 

They were born with tragedy in their blood, hardened by grinding selling those dubs sense they were cubs. But they were 17 now gettin skied now feeling life as a G now. Indestructable non-corruptible spectacle best until the rest can fill a space of anger which made him a gang banger to an absolute stranger. 

Inside he is as innocent as a baby looking fatal in its cradle. But has been covered time and time again by his "friends" pens. He let them write his life story he was granted no glory just a gorey story. He ended up gettin mixed up for too many fix ups. People on the outside could hear his heart tick tock till it just stop. The boyz never mourn they just stired a storm to inform otha brothas that their scientist was no longer insight as of tonight.

 R.I.P. dead man S.I.N.