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letra de (in)sense - onomatapoeia

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[chorus] [x2]
we hit them with the touch
we hit them with the smell
hit ’em once by the sight
and once by the sound

[verse 1 – vixxen]
i’m touched by your sympathy
but feeling sorry is a weakness
so i’m obligated to hush the weakest and
smash down the ones feeling gunny to test, cuz
when my fingertips, brush your lips
rendering you senseless
its an act of selflessness
putting an annoying pest
to a much, needed rest
taking into consideration, the lack of impotence
lower stamina, shortening distance
i touch you like lorena bobbitt
then discuss it over dumb i too
hype of the, others with, this and of
tattooed on their b-tts
cutting the strongest men into mothers

[verse 2 – slant]
f-ck it my sense of smell is like a bloodhound on hunt
the broke -ss homie to blunt
the chubby kid, the high school lunch
a godfather’s hunch that there’s a rat among the bunch
the c-ckroaches to captain crunch
i smell like a mixture of pheromones and foreplay
c-cktails and a door tray
?naturments? covered with cologne spray
air pollution and sunny weather
an ’87 cadillac’s interior leather
you smell like something from the back end of a lobby
a construction site porta-potty
a morbid sickly odor of a decomposing body
rocky’s boxin’ shorts and a box of old warm pork tamales
and gollies-jeepers you can lose your senses
just by smelling some slant
simply stated, i control the conditions where ever i stand
where ever i am, whenever i can
i mean man
it’s a momentous event to hear this overlord over a microphone
host of the twilight zone
most likely to leave your bladder blown

[verse 3 – puzoozoo watt]
and if i was blind
green wouldn’t be my favorite color
like the light that dies thin under
when in my room, rolling thunder
with the 20 dollar bill
b-tterfingers never blunder
just build in bundles
while other termites’ towers tumble
down, and the ground begins to rumble
you hear the sound and start to mumble in tongues
trying to communicate when my mind is numb
translating for the dumb

beneath the surface
onomatapoeia
read your senses

[chorus] [x3] [mixed]
we hit them with the touch
we hit them with the smell
hit ’em once by the sight
and once by the sound

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