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[1st strophe] Lost in my thoughts with nothing to think
about, confusional state, desire to *** up everything,
but instead I don't let it be, because Hip Hop is the only thing
that can change me, and what can you do about it?
Do you think you understand? You do nothing but runnin' away, you know, it's not fair.
I might look trivial to you, but in the meantime I'm not bubblin' while I'm singin', you can
picture abandoned who's paranoid without a regret. But now it seems normal not to come
back, but to form doses that can hurt. Then am I poison or what? It's not poison what
I'm injectin', but infected blood, for some reason. There are only spikes, it's the end
for your pose, because of this drug-rap with the rhyme that's dosed, I spit on my mistakes,
like I'm a lama, but beat me up if I grab a blade to recover myself!