Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
.
Bonnie & Clyde

You held my hart in your hands and my soul in your mouth, we watched the moon slip through the dark knight, A lullaby of blood and sticky labels, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.

won't you save me, for I've been running all my life, I've been sinning, I've been stealing and I know that that ain't right, won't you save me, won't you teach me right from wrong, I've been sinning, I've been stealing, please take me home.

We sang to the pound of the engine, you lay your head in my lap, so sweet so simple, you toyed with the coins in my pocket, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.

won't you save me, for I've been running all my life, I've been sinning, I've been stealing and I know that that ain't right, won't you save me, won't you teach me right from wrong, I've been sinning, I've been stealing, please take me home.

We danced to the  backdrop of yellow fields, spattered with red confetti, shookhands with the devil, all dressed in rags, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.

The devil he has taken me, and I can't run no more, No more sinning or stealing, for now my life is done; you can't save me, You can't teach me right from wrong, No more sinning, No more stealing, For now this soul has gone.

Ten cops, camera and a smile, Photo for a trophy, V8 Ford full of holes, reach for the sky, reach for the sky, No more dollars, No more heists, No more; No more, Bonnie & Clyde.
Gospel song  sung by bonnie,
Bonnie's redemption prayer;
but it still all ends in bloodshed.
Look at all these wannabe gangsters
Terrorising our streets
That one's wearing camouflage trousers
Just wait till you hear him speak
'Dems bear skills mate'
'Can you lend me fifty bar?'
He sounds like he's from Los Angeles
Doing time in the yard
But he's not
He still lives at home with his mum
And his pregnant girlfriend
And he's under the thumb
You see them outside Tesco
But they're not shopping for pesto
Let's go
They've seen the old bill
He's known around this town
For selling dodgy pills
Guns, knives and slang
That's what you need
If you wanna be in their gang
No education
Just a stolen Playstation
And don't forget the ****
Even on a school night
They're out doing speed
You'll see 'em in the park
With a bottle of cider
Then they'll start
On a poor old-timer
Tracky bottoms
And a Burberry hat
Chav fashion
Cause they think they're all that
But the funny thing is
They don't have a clue
They don't think like
Me or you
They think that they're rap stars
Dreaming of fast cars
But they're just wankers
More like 'wannabe gangsters'
Steven Bowman Aug 2018
Maybe thugs aren’t shooters,
They all need to decompress.
Calling themselves gangsters,
Never should they be blessed.

Thugs don’t get all their girls,
They pay them just big bucks.
Killing like they own all worlds,
Murdering with all their Glocks.

Blood gangs, where are the Crips?
Crip gangs, where is the Bloods?
They are fake owning their cribs,
Murdering just to own any goods.

Gangsters don’t own their swags,
It’s the Rap Game, it’s the G Code.
They rob and steal, filling all bags,
Man, these gangsters seem all old!
James Kelly Feb 2015
Hood isn't getting money and chicks
Its not what they show on the flicks
Its pain, death, and the struggle to survive
Its waking up
And praying to god that you stay alive
That walk down the street
Could be your very last
It could easily be taken
By someone wanting your cash
Y'all may not even read this
Y'all may not even care
But if you do
I'm just trying to make you aware
So before you sling dope
Thinking its cool
Remember there are real gangsters
That won't think twice about ending you

— The End —