H.Williams 3/13

I tried and failed, not failed to try.
Retract, step back, put face against the wall, dry eyes.
They hate, but love to list the wrong steps in a race ran right.
All my mistakes in red ink, don't get ready to be surprised
when I flip the switch, if you insist on playing games, then it's on.
You chose your weapon, then I'm picking the exact same one.
I'd really prefer a sword, but instead stuck with a pen.
So, I'll settle for writing "s"-words, though I'd rather slice someone's skin.
Now I draw the line, sign on the dotted, dot every little jot-and-tittle out
scribble till I blot you out, splat this ink out, spit this out
like a sickness, you make me wanna puke you out.
I'm ink poisonous, quarantine me or I'll take you out.
I won't use the word "ill" but still, it's in my last name, like will.I.ams.
Don't let me aim, or you'll be faceless and stutterin'
buttered me up, flipped it up, tried to fry me in the frying pan.
Famous last mistake, mistaken for your ending jam,
now watch me blow up, end this game and then take all your fans.