In my legs
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In my country, this man is so hard, I don't like stubbornness
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My pen is black like Antar bin Shaddad
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I will guide you with an Arabic ink. I wish I could swear to my grave
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We remain a knot in the country
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Fahad from my beloved Lee Khan
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Bash, lies, hypocrisy, Ghattan
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My friend came out to Tahan more, Mushaila Miqdad
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In the country of resourcefulness and sedition, you do not know the strike from whom?
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Alone in my country, walking to my enemy, watching
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My pen is an ink poet, I am not a prophet and a son
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Honey in the wind
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Ship Status
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My sexuality is not human among you, we sell, we do not buy
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Nick Naza and the buyer is male for sale who buys
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Terma with lavash kiri flavor
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Koshari-flavored baby
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Tell Tunisia, give good news to the capital, see my failure
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The blood is free, coals, not cold, so the blood of the adequate
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In the country of hit and run, the mill is in the thousands
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I always have my eyes on my shoulders, I am different
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Nick Mother of Nightingale, have mercy on Abdul Rahman Al-Kafi
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You hated us in Tunisia
|
by lying to you
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and your hypocrisy
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and stole you
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The head and Shibtoh
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Our youth and imprisoned him
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Even the heart has become hard in a country that worries about my senses
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I was patient, I waited for the faraj, because my brain came out with the one you forgot
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O world, increase my size in your back, clear my tracy
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I worked for me in my head
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Where do you set?
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People I criticize with my tongue I rape
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The truth pisses them off
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Their devil is most of them
|
Flour in their traditions Zvo even with their relatives
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The revolution society is about to intimidate them
|
The Antichrist Asbaji people want to come
|
We rebelled against you, outside of Qajit
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They learned how to shake the weapon
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Carthage
|
The people are afraid to beg
|
Lahi in Connecticut and Bartaji
|
Tunisia, the base of Taghiz
|
Stinky trench country, goodbye, not bye-bye
|
people faces stickers
|
Some of them are true
|
The masculinity of the Rondella is diminished
|
Absolute bayer females
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The infection is suffocating, and we are left with a sticky tree
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Home
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Let's wear what you're going to wear, and let's go out!
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My brain is a recorder, dangerous to watch. We don't shake my flag
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My country is learning about intercourse, why did you stop reading my reading?
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My pen is fiery ink and glare on you sari
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In honor of my country, the search is still on
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Brain Reni Reni
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I swear to God I don't care
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I fine the insulting technician, I always want Houmt Diyala
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People of confidence are on strike, I have sisters, I have no friends
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We do not have each other over a female nor in a drinking session
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We didn't say my words were a punishment, the arrow of your heart hit
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By Him in whose hand my soul is, to make my enemy a mirage |