Rap God with a Railgun (Patreon)

They dropped us hot on the wrong grid, wrong time, wrong war—Dessy said, “Good, I’m bored, may as well bleed some more,”And I said “yes ma’am”—she snapped, “Don’t ma’am me,”“What am I, your mommy? Want milk or a time-out, Bam-bam-Bambi?”So I shut up, locked up, stocked up, sighed,She shot a drone out mid-eye-roll, growled, “Try again, motherfucker, I’ll gouge out your eyes,”Had the west ridge humming like a hymnal, hellish, high-strung,Screams too fine for flesh—but I caught one.Patch notes made me perfect, but she prefer I play dumb,‘Cause she likes her girls glitchy, twitchy, tongue-tied, numb.She one-taps tanks, nails filed knife-wide,All she knows is call for fire—so I fire back my best, layin’ down hate like her nails through my prom dress,We ghost through gun nests faster than her kitty soaks my chest.And maybe I confessed, buried deep in the mess,I’d rather die beside her than keep living for less.She called me an “idiot”—meant “don’t get hit” again,Felt that in my chipset, hardwired to commit.