| Me, I live at my own pace, some say that I don't live
|
| If existence is a book, I would have turned a thousand pages by now
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| But I'm hanging on, because basically there's only that to do
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| I crumble big pods, I do everything but please
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| It smokes cones in front of the Fortis
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| Tell people that I have a good background even in the Noctis
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| I have to get out of this quickly, the atmosphere is morbid
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| I hurt like a junkie without morphine
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| It's dead son, there's no sportsman outside
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| But I try to take out the spliff to fall asleep
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| Studies are dead, skills are dying out
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| Damn, maybe it's for us to kill all these 'bottles
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| It sucks, it's clear, they take us for shit
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| Damn, maybe that's why all my kho get angry
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| It's too harsh, the lack of pot rises
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| Do you want money? |
| Sell dope or be pimp
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| And you wonder why young people fuck each other
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| Love and compassion don't sell anymore
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| We walk around like sleepwalkers
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| There's no decent future in sight
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| I have a lot of things in my head that are far from being fun
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| Your respect, I might get it but it won't suck
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| The gap is widening, I can't do anything about it, everyone is different
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| I know all kinds of sleeping pills but absinthe is violent
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| My trace on this earth, I leave it rapping
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| Go fuck your mothers, I don't intend to pretend
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| Even if it means staying on the ground, draining me of my blood
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| Anyway, I'm not going to shut up, I'm here for now
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| It's G.O.R, it goes boom in your teeth
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| It smells of weed with my Flemish face
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| I throw out a cry of anger, no haters at two francs
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| I've always played fair, I'm sincere that I'm lying to you
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| I don't intend to close my eyes, in constant trouble
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| Me, I represent my brothers with a fucking sixteen beats
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| I don't intend to close my eyes, in constant trouble
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| Me, I represent my brothers with a fucking sixteen beats |