| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game
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| With just one man»
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| Put your quarter up, I got first (Sluggo)
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| And I’m the type of customer that orders the works (as he smirks)
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| Not the same as any, I run the game of plenty
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| I buy my nickels from a dime who goes by the name of Penny
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| The Last Starfighter, searching for the Starfucker
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| The drunk parallel parker, thank God for car bumpers
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| Another day, shot in the head and buried
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| While your wifey tries to convince me that she shouldn’t have got married
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| From the Galaga bugs to the amateur thugs
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| To the punk rock chicks that can’t handle my hugs
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| I’ll be standin upon the web, born out of a thought
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| Where the spider makes her bed out of the carcasses she caught
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| Ayo, she’s got that good head, me I got dandruff
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| She wears a smile and, me, I wear handcuffs
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| Yo wait a minute savior, how about a little truth
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| You couldn’t save yourself if you had a cape and a phonebooth
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| The roof is on fire, the floor is underwater
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| The fish ignored the bait and ate the bobber
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| And as God hovers up above the highway and the chopper
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| I’m down here writing songs for her daughter (Is that your quarter?)
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| «Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| Trapped in a deadly video game—
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| Trapped in a deadly video game
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| With just one man»
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| Put your quarter up, brother
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| My underhanded summerjam escaped with a free game in my back pocket
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| The ego and the muddy gear leapt clear off the concrete valley
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| To murder silhouettes with a budget that have me bummin' cigarettes
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| My soul stuck in a mudpit absorbing anchors
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| With a y-shaped water stick and five great venoms
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| Caught it at the dog door by a sideways phantom with a swift attitude problem
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| Knuckling up with a carbon-based common guarding goblin
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| I’m drowsy, who drifted by the lousy Virgin Mary night light
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| Luminants that blew a kiss to sin
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| Would’ve said «Count me in» but just couldn’t afford the bounty
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| I’ll do the deed myself before the second leaping sheep
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| Even got counted
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| Multiple tasking, drastic unsocialable captain gasping
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| Jay Gatsby the great bashing open the plastic backspins
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| Strapped with a plague and a cocktail napkin
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| Wrapped in oragami dragon fashion
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| Flashed in a effort to smash your pattern
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| Pen magnanimous to say a little on this ancient foundation
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| They found na-tions running bases for nickeltips
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| Coordinate the zoning and the speeders trickle drips out
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| I’ll skip town once these upright citizens sit down
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| Uh
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| Yo, yo, I go next, put your quarter up
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| For bets, put your daughter up, MF is sorta corrupt
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| Not to be confused with the fake fly raw sound
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| Still the one who used to take your high score down
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| With more rhymes than germs a spitball carry
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| As it fly through the air like Pitfall Harry
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| Shit y’all fairies take a loss like Slobodan
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| This goes out to man, woman, and child from Robotron
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| Before the end, I save the world like Defender
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| There’s no time for curling up to hurl from a bender
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| Like back when your last five never went to weed
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| More likely on like twenty rounds of Centipede
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| If it go fast or slow, no mattering
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| The flow down pat like the ole Acro pattern
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| Those need to learn the technique, take heed, note
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| And switch like Spy Hunter when he *psst* to the speedboat |