| Into the wilderness, I found myself powerless
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| At the hands of this antiquated artifact, thought obsolete
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| I had uncovered it, container of obscurity
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| Archaeological findings, increased heartbeat
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| I chose not to speak of it, hid it away in my toolkit
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| A simple tin containing petrified hash
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| It took my breath away, inexplicable mental sway
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| Soon my affection would grow unabashed
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| I must protect you at all cost
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| None comprehend, hash in a tin, my best friend
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| Addicted to hash in a tin, prepare to commit the ultimate sin
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| Murder for the false god before you
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| I’ll murder for you, hash in a tin, master
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| You have no choice
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| I hear the tin’s laughter
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| Waiting until the rest go to sleep
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| I sharpen my shovel to kill in deceit
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| Go to sleep
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| Unleash my bud-thirsty devotion
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| Decapitate excavation team in sleeping state
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| A brutal weapon as it is, this shovel sure is killing great
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| The blood, it splatters on my face, all their lives I must erase
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| Kill for me
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| Yes indeed
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| Make them bleed
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| As you command me
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| Bodies mangled, torn apart
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| Teeth removed for no one to know
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| Dig them graves or leave them to burn
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| A taste of hash I think that I’ve earned
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| I’ts about time you reward your humble slave
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| No! |
| I’m not to be passed around
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| I don’t want to sell you, I just want to smoke you
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| You can’t do this to me
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| Let me hit that shit
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| Now I realize what has happened here
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| That hash, it didn’t talk to me
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| I’m just a pothead archaeologist
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| With a homicidal urge to chill |