Furniture made of the flesh of my foes
You feel it from your head to your toes
But i don’t mean top 40 hits
King of the va, off of those toxins.
Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done
Go into their room hella silent like a phantom
Ripley's believe it or not would tell you that i'm different
The fortune of a fighter turned phantom as tragic struck his life and
Pocket racked up all big faces
Of which im not exactly proud of,
Cause there'll never be peace
Top of my pile of bodies
Of potential cases
I think found where your mind was
Beaches of normandy.
Cause time is money
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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