letra de chapter iii: the rat race - cyne
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[verse 1: cise star]
(t–th)
gotta get it together, running out of time
still no k!ll on another man’s dime
risking my life, ways the instrument’s a knife
got my t–th of a beast illuminating the night
call and calm is the sound of a bomb
when the smoke clears see an angel of arms
death in the name like drugs in the vein
going straight to the heart, i depart from the game
electron t–th that radiate heat
don’t lose sleep, night light when i creep
on the target, no never an [?]
murder on the track, k!llmore is an artist
spit drip photons, density matrix
so be the battery, we can by hatred
laser, just a hitman, no savior
gotta do work, no money, no favors
t–th
[samples]
this is where we are
oh well, n0body’s perfect
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