| Face down bitch I'm a demon bitch
|
| This is all, bitch, fall without a sound
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| Digiri Digga wild machine gun
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| New crazy year, sunset in the blood, sunrise in the blood
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| Knives and goodies in the blood
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| My boys are waving beats right from the car
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| There is no time for snot, this is not a fairy tale
|
| Someone's holey helmet fell again
|
| I care about my own, and I don't give a fuck about you
|
| On the goblin's tusk, a dude died right there in battle
|
| Wake up, son, wake up in a corner, son
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| Swing, son, take out your underpants there, urinate and piss
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| This is Digga Rem, there is a mix of ms nearby. Don't fuck us to treat, go *** feed
|
| Or be the one whose barracks were buried
|
| Face down, braga, instantly doggy style on the hood
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| Quiet don, wild south, you're a condom, catch a hook in an instant
|
| Bite later when they beat with pyrom
|
| Because rap is not pop
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| Because a roar, not a howl
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| (cop, not stake), damn, not pop
|
| Oh my God
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| The man is inside, and all around I see only schmal
|
| Spring inside, soundly delivered beat
|
| Total Damage to Yellowed Fangs
|
| Meet by clothes, lead by fierce hooks
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| If you bullish, you are not allowed to fumble your head
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| Maximum in pockets, others and no horses
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| Don't poke your nose, baby, where the fumes and gloom are
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| Rest, asshole |