| Ain’t nothing like going out
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| And handling my business on a stormy night
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| They don’t call me Venom for nothing homey
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| That’s right
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| You get the grips, I’ll get the ranfla
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| Doing jales, like a shower of torment
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| Severe damage when I come down storming
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| Leaving vatos damaged top to bottom
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| Like the lost missions in the past have fallen
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| Vatos feel my anger, can’t take it anymore
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| Let’s go get the feria, sound the totes of war
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| The voice of death, I bring poisonous showers
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| Opponents get no warnings, get devowered
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| I stay alert, the only plan that works
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| When I put you in the dirt, don’t get caught
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| Enemigas gotta fall like eighty feet of flag
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| Epidemic is deadly spreading like a plague
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| Known fact, the streets run with danger
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| When you’re caught out of bounds, you’re a perfect stranger
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| We collect, and while I’m out rest in peace
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| In the line of fire, I serve the enemies
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| Tempist hurricanes, the juras harbor panic
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| Unseen in the rain, smoking getting at it
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| I managed, ese get down or get shot down
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| I think I’m going insane, walking on the calle in the falling rain
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| Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
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| Stormy nights trouble me with pain
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| Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
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| Stormy nights trouble me with pain
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| Psychotic weather excecutes the condemded
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| Periodically precevied with my theory I attempt
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| When it rains it pours, the crime it soars
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| Relentless conflict, eternal wars
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| Precisely my thought’s been reflected
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| Intensive forms, I can feel the storm
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| And it’s bending, for I behold the scroll
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| Mentally a weapon, semi-auto control
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| Soy Conejo from the big bad ache
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| All my enemigas on the serio better watch me
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| High explosive battleship
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| I’m self-propelled, torpedo thoughts
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| Embrace the spell, leaves start to fall as the seasons change
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| Seal off the area, pump the gauge
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| From night to day I cage my rage
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| Sicko likes to move for the final phase
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| Can you listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
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| My homies in the grave trouble me with pain
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| Can you listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
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| My homies in the grave trouble me with pain
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| That’s right
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| Check 1−2, check 1−2
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| That’s right homey
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| This rain is fucking venemous
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| And it’s coming to get you
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| Conejo, Venom
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| What you wanna do ese
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| Westside Harpys
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| Get wacked on location
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| I ain’t joking, got the pistol barrel smoking
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| Ya estuvo |