[Verse 1]
See if you can follow
A bloody trail or tale of torturing as I tailor
Tell a main tale of terror told from Robert Taylor
Housing Project, I sit, unfold this gory horror
And terror story, how a dead body can mark territory
Where apartments are swept with bulletproof cops because of
A seven-year-old youth drops from shots from rooftops
Or my mother whose fate was sealed and raped and killed then
Which meant the killer was killed because he never escaped the building
I lost my mother when I was a minor, ‘bout ninе or ten
I needed remindеrs she was dead ‘cause I’d go out and try and find her
I never understood her death ‘til I was twenty-two
I don't have any clue who did it, hurt her when someone, many knew
Maybe who. I'd never be satisfied if they put him in jail
‘Cause he can still excel and inhale, I'm putting him in Hell
I smoke an ounce and swallow ninety-nine bottles of beer
While planning to make his death a full-scale model career
While I'm swallowing down my last lump of liquor, ready
To stomp a nigga, giving they asses handicap bumper stickers
‘Cause I'm begging brothers for answers though I shouldn't beg
Niggas who’d make me turn in a leg for a wooden peg
My anger’s driven me to carry a gun for a living
I guess some shit is just unforgiven, Panik
[Verse 2]
I'm searching
The projects, looking for information, clues, and objects
Robbers get clobbered uglier than Shabba, that's why I ain’t been robbed yet
I walk the halls with a nine, clenching, pinching the trigger
Case of a benching, 19-inching-biceped niggas’ attention splitting
Offering dead presidents of dead residents
To residents near the center of the crime for info and evidence
Ever since my mother's homicide, the hallways I’d tear
Of the nigga that did it, now answer me yes or no if he hides here
Somebody said, “He knows you're looking for him. Before you go any farther
He's your father, so why bother? Plus your mother was hooking for him”
(“This nigga knows something you don't know about”) That statement took
A lot of balls and no brains, especially when I blow him out
I got a thousand-yard stare, so if you run for
The stairway, say your prayers, your ass is in the layaway
Since you know so much, give me the number of his apartment
Before the police find your body, wondering where the head and heart went
But better yet, just show me where he's hidden, kid, and, brother
Good riddance if there's any unforbidden movement unforgiven
[Verse 3]
The tension builds up as we reach the final floor
“Nigga, if this the wrong address, I'm putting bullets through your spinal cord”
Before the kid could knock on the door, he was killed and splattered and spilled
And filled with hollow-tips, I guess I’ll use his body for a shield
While trying to duck and dodge a barrage, a large amount of bullets
Enlarge inside my shoulder and my hip from the sabotage
So for the evil that men do, I’m aiming a red dot
Through his window at his fucking forehead like a Hindu
Pop! Take that, you motherfucking mother murderer
And here's an extra slug for looking like you never heard of her
The nigga ain't dead yet, but his face is full of bullets
He's suffering, so he prays. I point one at his dome and pull it
He's screaming, so to stop the screams, I aims and pops him clean
And watch his eyes roll in the back of his head like a slot machine
Bucking him while he prays, scatter his body parts in different alleyways
Leaving a flood of vultures like in the Death Valley days
Now that my daddy's dead, I feel that I'm done for living
I point my pistol at my head and pray I'm forgiven. Unforgiven
