Netzach remembering too well his record in the area slips out of the bar the best he can and attempts to make a run for it not wanting to get busted. He keeps a hand on the handle of his double blades willing to cut his way to freedom if he has to. He hates to be enslaved in any way, or to be a caged lion.
((tumble+[11,11] = (22)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2244828/">1d20+11=22</a>
Full-Withdrawl))
[sblock=Backstory]
I was brought up on the block with the hustlers and dope fiends and the killas with no soul.
See on the block every chick got a whole lotta thug in em screamin




the po-po
Ya my papa was a legend but lemme tell you a lil' somethin bout me, I was raised up poor
In my hood nobody gave a mutha




about who ya Befriend Defend ya home
My childhood, Memories were on da corner sippin guiness burnin marijauna plexin on my name call
Carry a chip on my shoulder, bout the size of texas you want drama playas sayin no more
Ya I'm a product of the street labeled a menace to society, how the




would they know
Don't be so quick to point the finger when really you dont know




bout me . soldier release and reload.
You can never pretend like I don't exsist, I'm in the mist of the thugs, and I'm huggin the block shootin and never miss.
who in the hell is this, witness never make it, no evidence.
snitchin is not allowed in my residence, born in this ghetto storm talk it walk it do it all in the ghetto form
soldiers born and lose more than a leg or arm, paper chase it doin a million miles an hour, live for the moment cause I'm knowin this could be my last hour.
got the flower to bloom, got the power to boom. get ya high as the moon but with these cowards I'm doomed
I'm a goon show mistakes there ain't no room for ya ain't no errors cause the sherriffs got a room for ya
they don't scare us because the terrors increases the crime rate in the seasons
see americas most wanted on your tv's ghetto soldiers they don't know it but we here to keep your poppin this song keep tighten up they hide your johnny cockren is gone
Gotta do whatcha gotta do with the circumstances given liven life as a ghetto soldier.
It seems the devils and demons and the police uniforms and they searchin for ghetto kids to murder.
I was here to survive when they came to trash the ones who took the note to protect us from every corner we turn.
this systems hittin the gutters baby hurry daddy lookin at his 45
Baby gotta eat so daddys gotta risk his life, this ghetto livin is the closest to the suicide
and its a give or take who knows maybe tonight we'll die[/sblock]