| I snort bricks, through a gold straw
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| Been outta work since 84
|
| (My) diamond machete, turns wrong to right
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| Can’t see the bacon, for the pigs in flight
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| Fat roll of hundred dollar fuses
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| Stuff ‘em in the mouth of a fine Jamaican
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| You’ve been bottle fed, dropped on your head
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| Don’t care if you bleed in bed
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| Skinny dip in a sea of razor blades
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| I am your tongue, this is what you say
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| New York City Glitch Bomb — Obliteration!
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| Peak hour compression — Obliteration!
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| Now you’re busily rotting away
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| To leather, sticks and insanity
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| The charming boy, a train wreck hymn
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| His life has become a coping mechanism
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| Hey buddy, got a match?
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| Gets me in the mood for obliteratin'
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| Butterfly with iron cross wings
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| A smile slides across my canines
|
| Golden cannon, letter from Kurt
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| I got something to tell you and it’s gunna hurt
|
| New York City Glitch Bomb — Obliteration!
|
| Peak hour compression — Obliteration!
|
| New York City Glitch Bomb — Obliteration!
|
| Human Liquidation — Obliteration! |