Hate keeps me alive.

I don't intend to change any minds with what I write_
Just allow me to share what you don't know could be right_
Let me d scribe to you what's done by the nerves on your brain when they're stained by mud after the rain_
Just make sure you catch the train_
(HOOK)
After a nice drive down the streets that crashed my ride.
My pen vowed to spill the ink of truth hold on, I ain't trying to be rude ****; Hate jeeps me alive.
Let's face it, what do you feel when people take your rightful belongings without your consent? 
You smile like a happy day full of sunshine? That ain't correct.
When you try to get them back, you're the bad guy and try looking but you won't see a thing, your sight source changes position and you got the bull's eye.
A blade doesn't hurt so does its wound after a fight.
At least until you see it bleeding and ask yourself why.
Because you don't like what you've just saw, or better yet, hate is what I mean. 
You look the contender in the eye and say; I wouldn't mind putting putting a bullet through that head, have his skin peeled off, take out the ribs and have his heart cut off and take what left then feed it to the dogs. 
While sinking in those thoughts. 
The cold blooded warms itself up just to keep the body system functioning instead of laying it off.
That only makes time for skin paws to let of some steam and leave you with no soul.
Resentment is a short term goal or feeling.
Hat keeps me alive.

You go to sleep with those whips.
Squeaking all night, turning round and round till you call asleep.
And the morning after, just the second you open your eyes to see a beautiful day, the pain of yesterday day utters.
Behind a man's killing, there's murder. 
Vengeance is no more hence hate is the dagger.
The dagger that cuts through the heart of the enemy to satisfy the need fir retaliation even though physique would've been better.
I look the enemy in the eye and say; look into my eyes and tell me what's there.
The veins are roots of resentment. 
Eye lashes are the number of times I wish to spit on you.
And the pupil is a million times bigger than chances of me liking you.

Let's face it, if people didn't hate, then after being beaten down and out, how many suicides a across the world would we get each day?
How many souks would perish because evil thrives upon its lead?
You're not sure of the answer but I do, hate keeps me alive.