| Who do you think is here?
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| I'm wearing a chain of skulls.
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| In the veins of the plague mixture.
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| Merchants of death from coffins.
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| We crawl out. |
| Wheels for dinner.
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| Passion for arson. |
| Smells burnt.
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| Young Varg under the hood.
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| Triple Six Gods! |
| Fuck Da Cops!
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| Loading Tommy. |
| Flame from the eyes
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| It's like Bloodz. |
| Gray bastard in a coma.
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| And we know - this herd does not recognize us.
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| I call this place hell, having been there once.
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| Three Six Gods, names will be erased.
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| Let's find your God dead or alive!
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| E! |
| E! |
| Ae! |
| E! |
| BUT!
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| Demons past the icons (hey)! |
| Jericho is smoking (hey!)
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| Jo (Jo) is on fire in the left hand. |
| Sauvignon in the other hand (oh shit)
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| I pour wine (wine) into glasses of five Madonnas (five)
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| In the sky the faces of the Gods (e), on the earth Karmageddon.
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| Flex at the Last Supper.
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| Walk with your head, but don't crack your skull
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| And the gods are with you, but before the first loss
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| 'Cause hell starts at your door
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| What I see seems wild to me.
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| Get out the window and get it out of your head.
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| And faces melt on indigo children,
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| We are buried in the depths of the giga (at the bottom!)
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| Fingers in rings roll to the cork, on them kif (kif on them).
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| Our logo will move the sun, frying the split (frying the split)
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| A skinny lord in burning clothes, a dead pyromaniac.
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| The smell of smoke in our roundup, Lemon Haze mist.
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| Doused himself in gasoline. |
| Give me a lighter.
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| The nose smells like cake. |
| My light burned your retina.
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| My flow is art, we draw on the picture.
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| You shine too dim, lying on the guillotine. |