Playin' the Thug

Text:

© badprimer
For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

We're like dust, here today and gone tomorrow
No extra minute, stolen begged or borrowed
Thrown into the mouth of the beast
to be swallowed. 70 years gone in a blink.
Was it worth it for the status you think?

What's your soul look like?
Is it guarded in heaven, secured in the afterlife
Or is it damned to hell, torment for eternity
Giving you brief money fame and fortune to live as a celebrity
Have you sold it for some brief monetary gain
If so what a shame. For but a vapor you've gained.
Tear drops making it rain, down your face.
As you drown in the liquor maskin the pain.
Who's to blame?

What about the youth who see you as a role model
On the illuminated screens showing them how to follow
Influencing the future generations into certain death
How can you sleep at night?
Hollow, even though you wallow. Like pigs in the mud.
Forfeited soul, price of the fame is innocent blood.
You sit back like you won something simply giving a shrug
Couldn't care less long as you're playing the thug.