| Chorus:
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| I'm on fire, damn, I'm on fire like a torch
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| Yours and my flame, yours and my flame
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| First Verse: Jacques-Anthony
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| Woe from mind, it's a fucking bust
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| Fucked year, passed the corridor three times
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| Drugs, outrage, what, what, what, what
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| I gave birth to rap from which the world went deaf
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| Gained energy, wandered along the torn roads of the dead
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| Soaked in melt water, hardened by the fire of the underworld
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| The same English rules here, but with a ram's head
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| Two silver fragments instead of wings behind the back
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| Check me how you want, I can come in from behind
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| You are finished if you are one of those who howl at the sight of abrasions
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| What covered the tsunami? |
| Moscow and St. Petersburg are behind us
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| 3 V embittered predator, we tear your herd with our teeth
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| There is no church here, no saints, only dust here
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| The most terrible sinners here are not shrines
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| The dust of conscience in the wind was lucky for them all, probably
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| Since they don't see that we've already fucked the universe
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| And the verse parasitizes on the deathbed
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| Where there are people, there is no peace, our souls are on fire
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| Our souls on fire, our souls on fire, our souls on fire, our souls on fire
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| Chorus:
|
| I'm on fire, damn, I'm on fire like a torch
|
| Yours and my flame, yours and my flame |