| Prevail
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| In the wars of attrition, we ride upon the spine of the griffin
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| Destroying small rodents and insects like victims
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| Paradise lost to the flames of the Fahrenheit
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| Mr. Brady told me watch the explosion and compare the light
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| So I did and saw the moments of the life I’ve lived
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| Now I’m amped, I push the storyteller from the lamp
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| Who dare to bask in spotlights stands with my name
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| I stampede the rookies while they search for the reigns
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| My who’s cave-in chest, Ingest this suggestion
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| Move or get moved by the powers of collection
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| We are three who are connected by direction
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| Upward is the motion, forward is perfection
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| Simplistic, only if the lines in between are the hardest ones to read and you
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| couldn’t hear the schemes
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| Bad Dreams, you’ll soon know the completion
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| Battle Axe Warrior, Prevail One to form the legion
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| Mr. Brady
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| Aye
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| I’m dangerous, highly explosive
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| Closer than multiple burn marks, riddle your dry skin
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| Breath control, never swing no battle axe dull
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| Sharp harpoons, chlorine in your eyes like a pool
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| You couldn’t burn a track, self-combustion in a weed patch, vegetable
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| Feel me like giant squid tentacles
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| I’m a brain twister filling a propeller
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| Putting gas fumes in place of your asthma inhalers
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| Head-butt you with spiked headbands
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| Sipping on spiced rums out of gas cans
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| Projects all up and riddling in my project
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| Our community false speaking in hidden dialect
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| I speak to less fortunate stragglers, desolate
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| Prev and Madchild, Brady, we ain’t having it
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| It’s perfection up in my extravagance
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| Meet the last bit of your palms lifeline
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| I waited a lifetime for my time to shine
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| We don’t sit around and wait, we take what’s given
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| Brady, Battle Axe, hip-hop is what we living
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| We don’t sit around and wait, we take what’s given
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| Brady, Battle Axe, hip-hop is what we living
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| Aye, is what we living
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| We don’t sit around and wait, we take what’s given
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| Of what we living
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| Brady, Battle Axe, hip-hop is what we living
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| Madchild
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| Crank the heat amongst fangs that puncture flesh
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| I welcome any challengers, out comes another youngsters death
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| Tongues tied twisted in knots, my plot’s to kill
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| New kids coming up? |
| That means there’s lots more blood to spill
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| When I flood the market, you don’t want to be my target
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| Unharnessing carnage, I’ll turn a man into a carcass
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| The darkness of the deeply disturbed and deranged, that’s right
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| You think I’m crazy now? |
| Should have seen me in my past life
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| Flashlights can find the remains of people that rubbed me the wrong way
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| Yo, for real, don’t fuck around. |
| I’ve had a long day
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| Let’s not forget who’s rapping while you listen to this song play
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| Not an illusion, king of skull crushing confusion
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| That buries axes and skulls then relaxes in pools of blood
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| Son of Sam, I’m walking up to cars and shooting fools in love
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| Living in a nightmare, can’t quite pinpoint what my dream is
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| I’m limitless ‘cause I’ll snap in a minute, I’m an extremist
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| My whole team’s untypical, it’s difficult to match this
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| You’ll probably have to rewind this a couple times before you catch this
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| We don’t sit around and wait, we take what’s given
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| Brady, Battle Axe, hip-hop is what we living
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| We don’t sit around and wait, we take what’s given
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| Brady, Battle Axe, hip-hop is what we living
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| Aye, is what we living
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| We don’t sit around and wait, we take what’s given
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| Hip-hop
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| Brady, Battle Axe, hip-hop is what we living |