twist your spine til your form's, lacking all kinds of support
die by the sword, killa bee hordes riding the swarm
quiet the storm, with subterfuge 'n silent scam
controlling minds with the swipe of a pilot's hands
disguised as lambs, but they'll kick you in private glands
pushin knives thru your diaphram, flow like a hydrant ran
over by riot vans, exploded, on tires flat...
still coastin', passengers wigs peeled opened
lost a kick runnin alleys with steel smokin
we chasin' them meal tokens
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