letra de thirty rounds - depth strida
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strida on a mission
i got f-cked up from prescriptions
i don’t want a b-tch to listen
when i’m talk bout my problems
my mind f-cked i got obnoxious
i see colors like bob ross did
test subject i feel so toxic
diagnostic alcoholic
i don’t know if i’m ironic
f-ck that sh-t let’s switch the topic
this world got me misanthropic it’s that
mercenaries genocide
endless death like columbine
cyborg call me f-cking bryan
broken mental frankenstein
bodys dropping to the ground
gun noises thirty rounds
mounted on a h-ll hound
what is up you f-cking clown
strida wear that th-rn crown
sitting on a blood throne
undead troopers inbound
fight the living
make em down
and this to a battleground
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