I crumble on the grave, two strips over the net
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I smoke, check my mobile, talk with death
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R.I.P. |
our brothers, their ashes were blown by the wind
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We hear their voice, alas, he will not answer
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I twist the third in a row, I catch the eyes of sculptures
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Dead squad with me, black hoodie from ssur
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Call it absurd, here is the afterlife
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Our people go beyond textures
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Bullets in the heads of the fucking arrogant Snitches
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Widows are crying, their world is treated with a fashionable glitch
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They roam under the dob in search of new forbidden food
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In our ears, our voice of the streets is filled with a low pitch
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They can not be returned back, I remember her cold look
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Echoes of those soulless vows, the body breaks hell
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Wandering among overpasses, deserted blocks and fences
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A squad lives in the dark heart, welcome to our garden (to our bloody waterfall)
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He flew down for a long time, before his death he fell prostrate
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Seeing the faces of her priestesses, gray ash from the pages
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And I swear I don't know what awaits us tomorrow
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But our sound flows from the blocks like it's a holy mantra
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Blood pours from through, like lava spews crater
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Death in your subconscious like the 25th frame
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The one who goes to hell does not look for fellow travelers, the bodies are sinful and have become food for the hyena
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You are all on tsatsk, but you are a beggar in mind, and your thousand do not channel on Calvary
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Choking in my own shit, I believed in Christ and help from above
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When you drew two fat than you thought, or forgot your mind among the fucking perfume
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Now we fuck your carcass smoking splits, no matter how hard you try not to make it to the split
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To finish so badly, I agree sadly, I scratch two letters on my face slowly
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VS leather with flesh looks nice
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And where did your fuse go?
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Your shmara was taken away while you were sleeping, count to a hundred
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While the barrel at her temple, we burn Nascar
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Longing in the soul, skunk in a ziplock |