Tekst:
The Dead 60 S Nowhere

mass murder! You better run! Dhr - emphasised... Our results make them compromise! 60 seconds until the meltdown Another countdown will make my day! Anarchist leagues are forming all over Nowhere

've got nowhere to go but down I hear his manager, Rastus Knight Is pulling what's left of his hair out The only thing Ray's writing these days Are large

of the Equator It's really not about who's lesser, who's greater It's more about who's the player, who's the player-hater Ashanti chiefs worked right