Who's got the ball? |
waits waits solid
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What, mic rhymes in Ayben
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It spills out from this tongue.
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No, it doesn't come from a dead battery
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From whom is the microphone entrusted to me?
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I passed on the ground, I do not pass
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You'll want to run away, but from where?
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My name is Ayben, fear me
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There is no coming back from where you went
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No one wants to read Maval
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Troubles that will come after you
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Pick up the wounds that spilled from me
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More than one goal you conceded
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You can pick up the deficiencies, this is not sincere, what I'm saying
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The most sincere, not a holiday, why did he kiss your brother-in-law?
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I don't know who will give you a hand
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What your eyes see is enough
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Look at everyone, everyone filling the center
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Sooner or later he will give the houses
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will buy coins
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Dig the wounds, get their money up front
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We stopped in the middle of this parallel
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Your helicopter that will fly to your death
|
seen from perspective
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Filed crimes against humanity terrorist
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Like an innocent wanderer, pessimistic thoughts are everywhere.
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There was no pleasant sound left from our humanist attitude.
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You stay liquid, I improvise
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You're gas, I'm sophisticated
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This page is filled because America wants war, the crew behind me
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In the air like an airplane, to whom the treatise is of seventy truths.
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For those who think it's possible to find them all in an encyclopedia
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They should be asked to the person who wrote the history, they should not be left behind.
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The reason for the waiting on the ships is the disappearance of the sea.
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Stuffed with bloody meat
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The only cactus that should wilt
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To all unbaptized people
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To all the people who curse
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Curse the people who don't curse |