BOOM ON COMMAND

“Target acquired… I said boom, motherfucker.”

(Radio chatter in background)

“This is war, ain’t no rehearsal—call it once, it’s done for.”“Fire for effect. Let’s go.”

(Repeat x2)Boom on command, I point – it vanish,

Rained on ops like my wrath volcanic,

Camo laced boots, my soul been manic,

Call them strikes, make your squad go panic.

Out in the field, no Hollywood cameras,

Just killzones, crosshairs, heat and hammers,

Binocular eyes, I scan that grid,

One word from me, that roof get split.

Body armor tight, the Kevlar flexin’,

But my brain hold more weight, more stressin’,

Helmet heavy but my thoughts be heavier,

Got memories I don’t even let the medics hear.

I’m posted in dust with a target map,

Shit gets real when you whisper back,

“Confirm fire mission,” heart go numb,

Say “boom” once, and a whole squad done.

No do-overs, no ‘take two’ scenes,

This war don’t give a fuck ‘bout dreams,

You flinch once, they peel your skin,

So I sharpen my mind like I clean my M4 in sin.

I ain’t just soldier, I’m soul on fire,

Every call I make, I get pulled down higher,

Chain of command got links of trauma,

Still I stand firm, call death like karma.

Night vision green but my thoughts stay red,

Blood-colored anger from the words she said,

Before deployment, she ghosted, dipped,

Now I’m overseas on that battlefield tip.

I ain’t here for medals or salute snaps,

I’m here ‘cause the pain need some loud-ass claps,

Booms louder than the silence she left,

Missiles louder than the beat of my chest.

Got a target grid locked in like fate,

I call that boom and I detonate hate,

Thermals on, I see bodies like ghosts,

Some float up, others become ash and toast.

I ain’t God, but I talk to Him often,

‘Cause I play judge when the sky turns coffin,

Say “send it,” then sip burnt coffee,

Just another life gone, and it don’t even cost me.

Boom on command, I point – it vanish,

Rained on ops like my wrath volcanic,

Camo laced boots, my soul been manic,

Call them strikes, make your squad go panic.

Boom on demand, I whisper – it’s done,

Warlord breathin’ in that helicopter hum,

Mind so numb but the trigger tongue sharp,

I say one word, and I rewrite dark.

Flashback to Fort Benning heat,

Where we trained in mud, no retreat,

They taught us boom theory and line of fire,

Now I’m the proof they was buildin’ live wire.

My SGL said, “Son, aim clean,”

But I learned life messy behind that screen,

Coordinate punch, I tap that grid,

Then count the seconds till the sky get lit.

Saw a boy runnin’ with a metal toy,

Coulda been IED or just his joy,

Didn’t get time for a moral debate,

‘Cause boom don’t wait on your mental state.

So I called it, boom, then silence loud,

Dust rose up like a mushroom cloud,

RIP P.O.W’s staying systematic