| Crash landed on a barren planet
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| Tau Volantis, God’s sake, How romantic
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| Look out for Danik
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| The Unitologists are on a ship
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| And if you spot them then use your hollow tips
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| While human colonists seek the codex key
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| Who’s the musicologist’s new foe? |
| That’s me!
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| Rewriting rhyme science, Isaac Clarke
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| My lines shine like eyes in the dark
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| Mines in the vast reaches of deep space
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| Are the reason that I came to be in this bleak place
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| But to keep my spirits up I keep lacing the beat
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| With words that deserve a million replays
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| Til I beat the game on every difficulty
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| Pitifully, leaving you amazed, at my skill
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| Now could we open the electric doors
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| And let me get debauched
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| With the Necromorphs
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| Until the Nexus falls
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| I bet you’ve all
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| Never seen a pair of balls
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| As heavy as my testicles
|
| I walk the walk, I’m one of the nastiest trash talkers
|
| Attack Crawlers and Swarmers, blast Stalkers
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| I go berserk at Lurkers
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| Turn them into burgers
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| I murder Pukers
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| Use their mucus as a gherkin in a bap
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| Amidst the battle I’ll be working on my rap
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| To refute your version of the facts
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| Plasmatic fluid all curdling
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| I’d ask you to call and inform Planet Earth I’m coming back
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| To stack astronomic fees as a music producer
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| And you? |
| You’re stuck at Zero G’s, Medusa
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| God Is Dead… Space
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| Thus Spake Zarathustra |