| So it’s war that they dabble with,
 | 
| Act like a man’s flesh,
 | 
| Is comparable to mannequins,
 | 
| Captured on the front line,
 | 
| Savage, start having it,
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| Cameras might catch a glimpse,
 | 
| Best hope it has a glitch,
 | 
| Captured on the hard drive,
 | 
| Stack it up as evidence,
 | 
| That’s why life’s a bitch,
 | 
| Big Brother’s tracking it,
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| Cap down, hood up,
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| It’s simple how to tackle it,
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| Bring madness or just handle it,
 | 
| It’s up for you to choose,
 | 
| Make your move then just stand by it,
 | 
| Don’t try abandon ship,
 | 
| Fucking sink with it,
 | 
| One hand raised to the sky like you’re done with it,
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| One minute, fame’s done, now you’re lost in it,
 | 
| One foot stuck in the grave while the other kicks dust
 | 
| In your face as you duck for the exit,
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| In the maze, but there’s no given,
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| Mother Nature’s unforgiving,
 | 
| Suffocate your lungs or living,
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| Dying from the inside out,
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| It’s how we’re all existing,
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| Forced into the system,
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| I pray days change and wage war as an instinct.
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| That’s how it is, how it is
 | 
| That’s how it is, how it is
 | 
| Yo! | 
| It’s war, war, straight to your door,
 | 
| Who’s outside with the bally and the sword?
 | 
| I think it’s someone they summoned,
 | 
| But I ain’t sure,
 | 
| 'Cos I goddamn lost my mind running from the law.
 | 
| Yo! | 
| It’s war, war, straight to your door,
 | 
| Who’s outside with the bally and the sword?
 | 
| I think it’s someone they summoned,
 | 
| But I ain’t sure,
 | 
| 'Cos I goddamn lost my mind running from the law.
 | 
| As night falls I’m reminiscing,
 | 
| Up/I? | 
| ten in wisdom,
 | 
| While your fam. | 
| are brainwashed by the television,
 | 
| Revel in the inhibition,
 | 
| I’m a rebel in the element of terrorism,
 | 
| Still here selling visions,
 | 
| Read my books if you never care to listen,
 | 
| Prepare yourself for the sentence,
 | 
| Best written in blood,
 | 
| Far from fake like the sight of a silicone bust,
 | 
| I fire flames out my mouth,
 | 
| See the lyrics combust,
 | 
| I’m far from innocent,
 | 
| I’m militant,
 | 
| Living corrupt,
 | 
| Like the sickness that is?,
 | 
| 'Cos the figure is stock,
 | 
| I felt the pain as the glass shards cripple my lungs,
 | 
| I spray my life out in fumes,
 | 
| By the bittersweet sun,
 | 
| Heart beating to the pulse like the skin of a drunk (?),
 | 
| Not the type to sell my soul for no six-figure sums,
 | 
| Still sit wishing sunrays will come around,
 | 
| Some days I’d rather stay unpaid,
 | 
| And live my life mundane,
 | 
| And wait once a week to an unhappy Monday.
 | 
| Fuck that! | 
| It ain’t ever going to happen! | 
| I’d rather die rapping.
 | 
| Yo! | 
| It’s war, war, straight to your door,
 | 
| Who’s outside with the bally and the sword?
 | 
| I think it’s someone they summoned,
 | 
| But I ain’t sure,
 | 
| 'Cos I goddamn lost my mind running from the law.
 | 
| Yo! | 
| It’s war, war, straight to your door,
 | 
| Who’s outside with the bally and the sword?
 | 
| I think it’s someone they summoned,
 | 
| But I ain’t sure,
 | 
| 'Cos I goddamn lost my mind running from the law.
 | 
| Yo! | 
| It’s war, war, straight to your door,
 | 
| Who’s outside with the bally and the sword?
 | 
| I think it’s someone they summoned,
 | 
| But I ain’t sure,
 | 
| 'Cos I goddamn lost my mind running from the law.
 | 
| That’s how it is, how it is,
 | 
| Running from the law.
 | 
| And I’m still running.
 | 
| I ain’t ever gonna stop running bruv.
 | 
| Yes! | 
| Middle finger up!
 | 
| Fuck the feds. | 
| One.
 | 
| Fliptrix, Mr. Boss.
 | 
| Done. |