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Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,057
Peak in subgenre #98
Rights
The Iron Boat 2010
Uploaded
March 19, 2010
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.8 MB • 128 kbps • 1:58
Lyrics
Sinister, cigar scented office.
This wild sellin' product is soon to line my coffin.
Wide Windows lettin' in the Sun.
My eyes dim, for I've been glued
to a screen, paper green
and the trigger of a gun.
I teeter back and forth in thought
This web of lies has finally got me caught.
In a bad transaction, of white between blacks,
Weepin' over so many I turned to night fiends.
And now I'm back.
Addicted - to getting at it.
Suitcases lined with what ebonics has deemed stacks.
The dealer who does his own dirt is the one to die,
I picked my poison and this green liquor
sold my soul, and never made me feel any richer.
Lo and behold I'll pull a bullet through my pride.
Vs2
Temper tantrums, lashing out at random
Vehicles, any and all materials are past-tense.
I'm passed tense, tension has already been vented
in the form of a storm of revenge.
Steel pieces released from hired arms, feeding
money to a demon.
No soul, meaning they'll take life without a valid reason.
Enemies write a friendship to vengeance in blood
we know this because the richest could never have
done a damn thing without tossing sympathy to the wind,
closing eyes from the bright light of the Sun.
Under moons does the gloom soon return, and doom
blooms we learn that few tunes recur
in celebration of toxic sales to the people.
Illegal lives take on the role of the grim reaper.
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