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ALERT “All I See Is Red”


Written by Boogalu

V. 1
Dear God,
All I see is Red Rum
Murder on our back lawns
Black King Kongs with
Black pistols painting Teflons
Shooting with a red ink
and a vengeance
Blood Hounds
Hunting through the slums
with a gold badge and a fire arm
Similar to Saigon
Worldwide, Gun Fire
Big Shoulder City neck deep into a bonfire
Popo’s picking up more bodies than the Red line
Shining like an albino’s eyes,
Our bloody crimes,
Blood rhymes
spitting through these rap icons
from the streets to the opium farms
of radical Islam
while young bloods
sent to the slaughter in a surplus
And politics’ a bloody mess
‘Cuz All I hear is “Pay Us”
with Big Brother blue eyes
watching over every fence
cameras on the corners
like a red communist
Blood boiling,
Red Cobra coiling,
Watch for the poison!
The end times are red
like a fire burning.

Chorus: All I see is Red (4x)

Masses hyped off that Red Bull
like the bull and the hype that we read in the Red Eye
America in lust we trust for violence
just like bloody Rome, but in Modern times
Teeth Red, Vampires
Blood thirsty hits
get the big dimes
and blood hungry blockbusters
satisfy desire for our bloody minds
like diamonds in Uganda
Bloody mines
and headlines written in black
should transcribe to a red font
“cuz the glorify crimes and get the stock
Case in point: Hip Hop
Born from the body rock
but now promoting body counts
in large amounts, sounding out
Brainwashing shorties on their ipods
Red and Bach
popping every seed when its red and hot
You know its popping season when the temps are hot
and blood and coolaide
are poured out on the same blocks
but mankind’s more concerned with
Red Stock, Red Wine,
and Red Bras
Red like a stop sign
Drive By
And All I see is black hearts

Chorus: All I see is Red (4x)

Come, see our bloody streets so red
The evilness outside so grave
So red
But Lord, you know our souls are filthy
So black
We chosen our own way instead
And made a mess of it all
All that is

But all I see is martyrdom
Christ’s bloody arms
and a prophetic psalm
Mocking Roman guards
and a crown of thorns
Hearing it is done
Metamorphed my vision crimson
from the Risen Son
until I’m dead and gone
My eyes are red imaging
like heat seeking gun
Hope in Resurrection
Gotta run
Praying like Gethsemane
The day has come
and my cup is red suffering
But my path is like a refuge
Running in the red zone for freedom through artillery
Red marks the death of me
But Life be the Christ in me
And guarantee Booga’s bloody thirsty for eternity
So I’m perching in the High Tower
shooting sharpened arrows at the enemy
God forbid,
I settle for less than a legacy
because I’m laced in a favored team
Sweat shop laboring
Red Eyed, Wes craving savoring
the bloody gift given
Hope In red letters
It is written
Now all I see is crimson



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