DEFENDER'S RAP

• PCK shi... DOUBLE 2 ONE 3...223's
• Yeah, I’m posted in the mud where the bayou breathes,
• Crew deep, steel sharp, talkin’ two-two-threes.
• Flash in the dark, let the silence speak,
• Every round got a sermon, make the wicked weak.
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• 223’s hum, then sting a nigga like a wasp
• Clip full, mind cold, let the murda begin.
• Ain’t no mercy in the field when the loyalty’s thin,
• We protect what’s ours—blood, fire, and kin.
•  
• From the cane fields down to the cracked concrete,
• We move like shadows, never miss a beat.
• Enemies scatter when they hear that heat,
• ‘Cause the bayou don’t forgive, and the crew don’t sleep.
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• 223’s in the trunk, that’s a soldier’s code,
• Every bar that I spit is a heavy load.
• Ain’t no fairytales here, just the path we chose,
• Grit in my soul, and the legend grows.
•  
• Yeah, I’m posted in the mud where the bayou breathes,
• Crew deep, steel sharp, talkin’ two-two-threes.
• Flash in the dark, let the silence speak,
• Every round got a sermon, make the wicked weak.
•  
• 223’s spit fire, cut the night in half,
• Echo through the pines like a ghostly laugh.
• Mud on my boots, but the aim stay clean,
• Every shot bleed a story that the news, and feds ain’t seen.
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• We don’t flex for the ‘Gram, we protect the PCK hood,
• Every trigger pull a pussy nigga drops
• From the levees to the block, it’s the same old creed,
• Feed the crew, guard the fam, let the steel fly.
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• Enemies creep slow, but the swamp run deep,
• Where the gators don’t blink and the shadows don’t sleep.
• 223’s hum low, then they bite with speed,
• It’s survival in the blood, and the code we bleed.
• //