I wrote a story with blood, my soul sometimes still cries
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The thought takes me far away, too many problems, of everything I would like
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To be able to escape, I actually feel mentally forged
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I know a child who has been through a lot, forced to fight from the very beginning
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Death is so close, it sits by the bed silently in the night
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His parents are praying, waiting for a sign from heaven to fall, Lord
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It seems to be too many, 180 injections given
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He was admitted to the emergency room, operated on his head, and spent 3 months in the hospital
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He recovers slowly but surely, standing in the face of death alone
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He passes his first test with flying colours, life gave him the most complex one
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Years pass, he goes to school, makes friends and burns it out
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He takes up sports, dreams far away, contracts for money abroad
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Besides that, he has other skills, he does everything
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Draws like a book, enters art school with 10
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Over time he slowly fades away, finishes high school, plays sports on Kent
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He burns it in the neighborhood, starts drinking
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Entourage, belles, pass the goods
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He broke many mouths from bad words
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He also saw knives drawn during the scandal |
He also took neves and ribs
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He came across dubious leeches and crows
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He takes up work for little money, it's a pain, he breaks everything
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Nervous, burning, tired, stressed non-stop
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He indulges his appetites, brother, he breaks away from everyone and everything
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He makes money but doesn't put it aside, he puts it in clothes, he puts it in appliances
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He knows what it's like to have no bread on the table, the power cut, with a flashlight in the house
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He likes life, money doesn't make him, always on the street with golans
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He's on the block scale, he gives them everything, with what he has in stock
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In the «laughing, non-stop» mode
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The years go by in a frenzy
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Sedated as in the book, he took sedatives, he feels weak
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Dizzy but can't sleep, has chills
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Panic attacks, hold fast
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His heart began to freeze, forced to learn by mistakes
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He met companions with many faces, garbage and all kinds of rags
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Suddenly he starts to rhyme, but he knows at the same time that he is not up to it
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He likes what he does and does it with love, over time he becomes a tank drummer
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Too much work, stress, money, concerts but no fans! |
Hundreds of pictures, autographs, some like him, some don't
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The years go by, with good and bad, the old RAP still runs through his veins
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With the band gone around the country, when he goes on stage he gets mad
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It is clear that nothing can stop him, he does not give up on his dream no matter what
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The world demands BIS, falls into the abyss, bomb on the drum, ba, in closed space
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He regrets a lot, but he knows that time cannot be turned back
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No matter how much he is careful not to do stupid things, he gets the stain and takes it to the fields
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He's been through a lot since he was young, now he's a man, forced to fight
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I know him too well, he can't lie to me, I always see him in the mirror
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I repeat: He has been through a lot, now he is a man, forced to fight
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I know him too well, he can't lie to me, I always see him in the mirror
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I always see him in the mirror...
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I always see him in the mirror...
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I always see him in the mirror...
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I always see him in the mirror...
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I always see him in the mirror...
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I always see him in the mirror. |