Tekst:
From The Shallows

people Off I don't think it's funny Hit the gas, hit the brakes in a traffic jam I think I'm late for work got your license From a cereal box You don

cutting people off i don't think it's funny. hit the gas, hit the brakes, in a traffic jam i think i'm late for work got your license from a cereal

crept up and shot her dead in the nose Message in a bottle, violent as our records spin One stranded couple terrorized by backwoods men A young man home from

entered harsh realm Big spore zone, severous poisonous herbs They're are water spiders that eat lizards and birds While bloody red icicles hang from every

a mission back to the Arabian nights Pop you wit my pistol, discipline was the doctrine Drop tractors on you like oxygen in my moccasins Hang you from

Mics in decay, my rhyme is violent, goofy I laugh like he threw money bags in a silent movie Seven stone cozy, vodka in the jukebox One heavy pistol came from

comes from paper, smoke comes from burnin' it Smoke stacks are made from metal found in the ground Same as the buzz-saw, paper comes from wood Any answer

(feat. North Star & Suga Bang Bang) [Intro: Warcloud] North Stars, North Star, North Star, Cha-Cha-Cha-Cha-Cha Warcloud [Warcloud:] Flame tanks, stealth

and scatter your bones You hear the tone dialin' you out, it's combat zone [Chorus x2: Mantra] Poison blood from the bay of pigs, catcher in the rye