Originally Posted by H.Notik
now they prey to there god in this world full of nothing
cuz they days going hard an they cant push the button
feel the pain of my squad cuz we stay we losing brothers
if had to pick another one i'd tell him fuck it run...
sprint in different directions,
my twisted connections blacksmith wessons with dripping pens
images are transmitted by convincing lies,
digitized into minimum files,
these scripts are but bit torrents stitched by this viscious warrior in orange
from this torn pad I am sworn into foreign pacts,
build boards from born facts and form attacks with small soldiers that use swords and axes
I've been warned about opening attachments,
trojan combatants soaking roaming data in batches
code fragments are the track's composers and wraps,
acetone and coal's ashes are the only lasting components of this ghostly act...