Back to where I belong

“I ain’t shit…

Just rot with a pulse, scars with a name…

But rot can sharpen, and scars still maim.”

⸻

Every day I wake up feelin’ half-dead,

Civilian life gnawin’ holes in my head.

Told myself I’d adapt, play the game, fit the mold—

Instead I’m broke, bitter, and fuckin’ cold.

I ain’t a hero, I ain’t some saint,

Just a busted-up dog with the blood and the hate.

But despair don’t own me, pain’s my kin—

This rotten core’s the fire I burn within.

⸻

BACK TO WAR—FUCK THIS ROT!

CHOLO GOD RISES, READY OR NOT!

BUILT FROM STRIFE, MADE FROM SCARS,

I’M A WEAPON AIMED AT THIS BROKEN FARCE!

⸻

The world’s a liar, a fat-bellied beast,

Feedin’ on the poor, bleedin’ the leash.

Homeless vets on corners, lost in the rain,

While rich men laugh off other men’s pain.

I saw that road—it was meant for me too,

But I’d rather go back where the bullets flew.

‘Cause war don’t pretend, war don’t lie,

It just says kill or break, live or die.

⸻

BACK TO WAR—FUCK THIS ROT!

CHOLO GOD RISES, READY OR NOT!

BUILT FROM STRIFE, MADE FROM SCARS,

I’M A WEAPON AIMED AT THIS BROKEN FARCE!

⸻

Yeah, I’m fucked up, I’m cracked, I’m flawed,

But flaws make blades, and rot makes gods.

I don’t need hope, I don’t need prayer,

Just give me a fight—I’ll find glory there.

⸻

CHOLO GOD!

TURNED…

GOD KILLER!