{Intro: Fuat]
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Zen G, Veysi, Noble, Bonobo, Eins Panzer
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Your destiny circulates from hand to hand like a glass
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If everyone takes a sip, there's nothing left, listen
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My didactic rhymes that bring order to the details
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It glides from Sulukule, my warriors
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Whether they destroy it or expel it, it rises from its ashes like a Phoenix
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One punch your head onion
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Fuat, two coils and a bearboğan
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The cages break with my jaw, reach for the micro
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Zen G, Veysi, Noble get up layn
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With a roman stick, giant punchline
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West Berlin, Fuat Ergin, Bonobo, Eins Panzer
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The sun will rise every day from the west, if you look into my eyes
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Pen, shovel, paper, grave lights
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The heart laments, *how far?*
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Breath never ends, rhyme skewers
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I won't stop writing, *till I die*
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Today is better than yesterday
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Enough
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If it sticks to your collar, it will not work, be it trouble or sorrow
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All the problems bothered me
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I also made trouble and added ignorance to the trouble
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They say troubles make you crazy
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They call us crazy
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Barbed wire connects us
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Mortal agenda, I don't see my way
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One day roses will cover your grave
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You see, you laugh
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Pen, shovel, paper, grave lights
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The heart laments, *how far?*
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Rifle explodes, bullets fly
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If your head is the target, *how far?*
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West Berlin, Sulukule lyric writer
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The grave opens, *how far?*
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Breath never ends, rhyme skewers
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I won't stop writing, *till I die*
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Dozens of locks were struck and our luck was chained
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We are as offended as a homeless man is sleeping on the street.
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You got angry with children for teaching life
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We're the kids your mama said don't play with them
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They say troubles make you crazy
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They call us crazy
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Barbed wire connects us
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Mortal agenda, I don't see my way
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One day roses will cover your grave
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You see, you laugh
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Ministers who will not go underground like a miner
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They look after the exhumed corpses instead of helping them.
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Numbers became the common concern of all people.
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The workers wait for the children, the authorities for the others
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His poor works, his boss wins
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Start the engine, your battery gets hot
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The prisoner bites the iron, he gets tired of himself
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The world is a big killing machine
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Time goes down and time goes down
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The world is hell's mistress
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Tahribad-ı İsyan is a map of the streets* |