| Every so often you stop to think that you can't fly high without knowing the
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| dark
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| Yes I've been there
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| Then I saw everything shadowed, an exaggerated sound
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| After I recovered injured like the black heavy weight
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| The city that is falling apart
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| The fences that come off the ground for the unloading of goods
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| And go away from here, far between strengths and weaknesses
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| With flow at the heart. |
| insect repellent
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| I take another step, a toast to the future
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| You can hope to fly high without dark
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| Sti thoughts that now I no longer put to safety
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| Like shots of words that pierce the wall
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| Out of the stadium, right down here in the real countryside
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| Who enters a closet like "Chronicles of Narnia"
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| Snipers are now aiming from above
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| Police shoot, people in the race, Revolution: Che Guevara!
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| Sti guys with no practice that crush the stones
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| Then from day to day you already see the shots you take
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| We walk the neighborhood streets together
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| All around remains ash and fire under the construction site
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| Give me some diesel, fire for your shirts
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| The shake, eruption, Big Bang
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| Kalash, microphones that shoot in the wind
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| We vote for "Big Brother" but not those who go to Parliament
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| A car travels more than it should, those who follow me take their breath away
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| "Music remains my shield!"
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| Not even time to spit, but these bastards don't even make you smile anymore
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| for a minute
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| Millimeter precision, a desert eagle does not replicate
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| Metric bars, steel poetry
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| Each word is a bullet that pierces the skull
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| I wrote a couple for my still in these streets
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| And for love at least a couple more. |
| tons
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| Among those who speak to Siri and with conscience are silent
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| Take a picture of me while you kill me that I put a "like"
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| Inspired by questions like real artists, pessimists
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| In fact, I do better on sad chords
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| Why this world is indifferent
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| And if it tears you a smile, it literally tears it away
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| Look what happened to these people. |
| and you are surprised ?!
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| They look sixteen but are of childlike age
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| Don't try to understand me, don't think about it
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| In the new merchandising there is the bulletproof vest
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| I close the house and go out onto the street, here is the Intifada
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| You have too many arrears friar, so pay!
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| Sachets spin like Tiki-Taka balloons
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| And kids peddle pellets from a grate
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| I am grateful to God for giving me my insight
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| But where I am the ideas intertwine like the "Noodles"
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| Among the motorcycles that whiz around here, you are naked and raw
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| With the sound of a Glock as a welcome cocktail!
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| Among heart-pounding branes: Brian De Palma
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| My people crave some calm
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| Not to dance the Bamba!
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| Dynamo-like heaters, heads fall like Dominoes
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| Too many monsters and zombies invading us like Dylan Dog
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| Eventually I am disconnected from my Nokia
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| Because you, I know, are like Povia
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| Little post-Sativa saliva
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| Crystal in this dark forest
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| But with metal as a Burial |