| (Whatta bam-bam, …my body’s ready to take you,
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| Through our flooding snot, go!
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| Am I beaten?, you better funk me up!)
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| Think of a spot walkin' itself to the widest white it finds
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| Oh shit — grappin' with it’s claws my burning flash,
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| Oh mama come!
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| Looks like I’m doomed for real suffering
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| Amma victim of a passion play
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| (fuck) I’m only able to crawl for the next few days
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| I’ll be battered, beat through out like a slave
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| Not me, not me This scum is damn rotten — and never for me Not me, not me This scum, no, it can't beat me And no, I won't surrender, I'll beat it with tons of Pure whiskey |
| inside my body, I will keep it starving,
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| I won’t eat any healthy stuff
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| Oh, my dear booze, it’s like magic, seems like
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| A spot won’t last
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| I don’t need it’s part, I’ll make it rot
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| Its million legs will run and fast
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| Not me, not me This scum is damn rotten — and never for me Not me, not me This scum, no, it can’t beat me
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| (Scum! Run!)
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| Yo man, the spot is gone, wonder how my good
|
| Remedy worked
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| I’m supposed to feel well, I should, but I can’t tell
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| What if it’s still there, whati if it’s still inside,
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| Somewhere hiding, getting bigger, silently, violently
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| Oh gosh… cancer is here, cancer is everywhere!
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| Not me, not me This scum is damn rotten — and never for me Not me, not me This scum, no, it can’t beat me I am dying of this scum!
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| This is fucking boring! |