| I’m blowin' on a Backwood stuffed with psychiatrics
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| Coughin' with a hack like a playa out of practice
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| Twenty in my nose, whatever get it done the fastest
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| Eyes closed, praying for apocalypse disasters
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| No gods, no masters, no befores, no afters
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| Ugly Mane’ll make you disappear just like the Rapture
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| Dodging destiny, still, that coffin like a bed to me
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| The voices spoke incessantly, my pride is what they fed to me
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| Tried to read the messages but words was wrote illegibly
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| Hennessy suppressing all my memories
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| Mirror showed me glimpses of the enemies possessing me
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| Toxic thought telepathy, living legacy
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| Rocking weapons like accessories, dying for supremacy
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| Really we’re significant as centipedes
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| Crawl around the Earth with no identities
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| You’re not special, don’t pretend to be
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| Your tendencies are so predictable, it’s difficult to remedy
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| I could read a billion books, still not know what pill I took
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| I could have a million guns, still walk with Achille’s foot
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| Sympathy for Satan, and the sorrows of Satan
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| Sympathy for Satan, and the sorrows of Satan
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| Sympathy for Satan, and the sorrows of Satan
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| Sympathy for Satan, and the sorrows of Satan
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| Sympathy for Satan, and the sorrows of Satan |