| Yeah! |
| I got nothing but a lot of resent and an utter contempt
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| Waiting for a scumbag something like a hundred percent
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| Fucking with Vents, fucking with Ses', fucking with Pegz
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| Obese and all of that, nothing but friends
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| Nothing but love, rough in the ruggedest form
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| Centigrade heat keep the mic kind of warm
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| We born to live a life to die so I find
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| The right way to jet, no pain and regret
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| Waving the black and the red, justice and peace
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| More getting along and less fucking police
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| Cooking dope over wonderful beats
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| My reputation like Cold Crush Brothers when it come to the beefs
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| I keep no respect for a man that talk
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| To his mother like a bitch and sell drugs to kids (word 'em up)
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| You ain’t the hard type
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| You a chicken shit bitch-made retard sucking that glass pipe
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| That’s why I don’t trust nobody but me
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| Everybody squabbling about nothing look funny to me
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| It’s five minutes to midnight
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| You wanna fight about skin colour? |
| Gonna be a long hot summer
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| Don’t trust nobody but me
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| Everybody out waving those flags look funny to me
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| It’s five minutes to midnight
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| You wanna fight about this bullshit? |
| Get your card pulled quick
|
| I got nothing but a lack of respect for a fucker
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| That sending men to war, so the damn unleaded can pour
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| I got nothing but hate for a man with a corporate dick
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| So far in his date, he’s shitting out yellowcake
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| Nobody get a break unless you make
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| The kind of loot that the fast food generate
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| Eat a Big Mac? |
| I’d rather eat a piece of shit
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| Smeared off of Adolph’s dick
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| You picked the wrong rapper to fuck with
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| The world like Yorkshire '79 and I’m Sutcliffe
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| And I’ma bust with maniacal rage
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| While my man here scratch like he dying of AIDS, huh!
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| From the padded room to the catacomb
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| Living in a vacuum, then back to the maggots soon
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| Back to the dust in a rush
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| Vents in effect, see you in the next lifetime bruz, what up?!
|
| That’s why I don’t trust nobody but me
|
| Everybody squabbling about nothing look funny to me
|
| It’s five minutes to midnight
|
| You wanna fight about skin colour? |
| Gonna be a long hot summer
|
| Don’t trust nobody but me
|
| Everybody out waving those flags look funny to me
|
| It’s five minutes to midnight
|
| You wanna fight about this bullshit? |
| Get your card pulled quick
|
| I got a whole lot of love for my real mates
|
| Mr. Trials in effect yelling rage at the kids and it feel great
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| I got love for my girl Kate
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| I know it’s hard for you but every day like my birth date
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| And every snake get the finger
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| We could take the ruckus outside like Meninga
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| Sicker than Maralinga, I’m the bringer of justice
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| Hardcore dissidence, what the fuck is this?
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| Vents One, Hard to Kill, bars of steel
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| Rhyme foul like a gram and a half a pill
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| Got love for the young guns playing my noise
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| Rhyming like Vents, slaying them toys
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| Making that choice to get smart
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| Even thought school is a factory line and you the next part
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| Much love for my mates
|
| Much grief and torment forever to the down low snakes
|
| That’s why I don’t trust nobody but me
|
| Everybody squabbling about nothing look funny to me
|
| It’s five minutes to midnight
|
| You wanna fight about skin colour? |
| Gonna be a long hot summer
|
| Don’t trust nobody but me
|
| Everybody out waving those flags look funny to me
|
| It’s five minutes to midnight
|
| You wanna fight about this bullshit? |
| Get your card pulled quick |