| Devils sing when I go to sleep, enemies know it’s open season
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| Cook dope for the dopamine, let 'em sleep in their coma kingdom
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| Devils sing when I go to sleep, enemies know it’s open season
|
| Cook dope for the dopamine, let 'em sleep in their coma kingdom
|
| Prxz
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| Gin$eng
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| I got a knife in my pocket, wanna meet it?
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| I can paint it with some blood, wanna see it?
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| I go abstract expressionism, looking like The Exorcist
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| I bet their heads’ll spin indefinitely like the devil’s in 'em
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| Get sliced till the gills in place
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| Inside, I’m like Gilles de Rais
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| It’s night, I don’t feel day rays, get high
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| I can’t feel my face, watch me fill these graves
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| I am Sad the Impaler
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| In a forest of my past selves chanting my name
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| While these people wave goodbye, always fanning the flame
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| Looking peaceful but inside’s only acidic rain
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| Like it was cortisol
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| Endorphins pumping through my corazon
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| A war’s at home so I score it like it’s Morricone
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| The more I go in crowds, the more I grow agoraphobe
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| I know the more I glow up, now the more I know I’m so alone
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| I could torch your home whenever I’m in horror mode
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| A morbid, tortured soul leaving blood on the interstate
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| Doing drugs off a dinner plate till I drift away
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| And say Au Revoir, I swallow pain like Ouroboros
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| Dead cops in my daydreams lately
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| They get shot when they make me angry
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| Cement blocks if you step to me
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| Come get lost in the entropy, rest in peace
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| Devils sing when I go to sleep, enemies know it’s open season
|
| Cook dope for the dopamine, let 'em sleep in their coma kingdom
|
| Devils sing when I go to sleep, enemies know it’s open season
|
| Cook dope for the dopamine, let 'em sleep in their coma kingdom |