| Yeah
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| Yeah, that cash
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| Yeah, take it, here
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| From a long line of the rancidest swine came the violators
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| The cloven foot designers of high crime for the iron ages
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| Twisting down through time, see them tryna unwind creation
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| Don’t be surprised, it’s a mistake to think their influence had faded
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| «Well, what a wretched state of danger we’ve made here,» I thought to me
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| Perhaps explaining years of self lobotomy, toxicly
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| Perhaps explaining tears and even tears in my cosmology
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| You numb yourself for years and it can wear upon you, honestly
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| These old foxes got a lotta plots to outfox us (Ayy)
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| Tryna divvy up and dump in corresponding boxes, how obnoxious
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| Where the heart and mind connect, expect them targeting like archers
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| You will not travel towards the light if they’re in charge of your departure
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| You’d think the universe forgot us the way the cursed pitch their product (Woo)
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| As though our spirit’s not a fire that can’t be snuffed or turned to dollars
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| Or the expanse across all space can’t be contained in one small dollop
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| Now I see that it’s the same moment in history back to haunt us
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| And here we are again
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| Hello void, long time watcher, first time callin' in
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| Every cage built needs an occupant
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| Got a dead bolt, see 'em lock it in
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| Had a good run, but they stoppin' it
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| Wanna walk, man, to the coffin lid
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| Eat your heart out, fiction fan
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| Truly the truth’s the stranger document
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| And at best, I’m just getting it wrong
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| And at worst, I’ve been right from the start
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| It hurts, I’m bein' torn apart
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| There’s a grenade in my heart and the pin is in their palm
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| There’s a grenade
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| There’s a grenade
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| A grenade
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| At best, life is difficult, poor and you pitiful
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| Then every day’s like a satanic ritual
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| Beautiful soul with a rogue and the criminal
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| How long must the holy hold onto they principles?
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| Kickin' and screamin' while watchin' the demons
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| Collecting the gold and the diamond residuals
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| My pastor say, «God has promised us paradise
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| Live a good life, it is pivotal»
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| I promised my mama that I would stay honest
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| But I want it all in the physical
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| And promise I’m honest, I’ll probably be punished
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| 'Cause keeping that promise too difficult
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| So picture me red as I sit on the bed
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| With my hands on my head and this pistol too
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| Why the fuck must I be miserable?
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| The devils, they do the despicable
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| And still, they move like they invincible
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| These filthy criminals sit at the pinnacle
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| Doin' the typical, keepin' us miserable
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| Takin' the most and providin' the minimal
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| Hate to sound cynical, but shit is pitiful, times is just critical
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| Like Jimmy Savile, they cheerfully kill kids in a ritual
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| I’ll murder the miserables, I’ll make it all biblical
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| I’ll cut off their heads, they’ll beg for their life and I’ll put it up digital
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| Fuck the political, the mission is spiritual
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| A murderous miracle that was sent here to just punish the terrible
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| Static in my mind
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| Like sanity on borrowed time
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| Like right and wrong can’t be defined
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| There’s a grenade in my heart and the pin is in their palm
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| There’s a grenade
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| There’s a grenade
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| A grenade in my heart |