1. |
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Lost, wherever you go, so quiet is the road.
No traces of home, the patterns of losing it all.
The people I've known, the poems I wrote,
Not fair enough,
And never to care of my own.
They follow me home
They follow me home
They follow me home
They follow me...
Never ever, ever, ever things were under control,
Nothing that I've ever felt was under control.
Never ever, ever, ever things were under control,
Nothing that I've ever felt was under control.
Never ever, ever, ever things were under control,
Nothing that I've ever felt was under control.
Lost, wherever you go, so quiet is the road.
No traces of home, the patterns of losing it all.
The people I've known, the poems I wrote,
Not fair enough,
And never to care of my own.
They follow me home
They follow me home
They follow me home
They follow me...
Never ever, ever, ever things were under control,
Nothing that I've ever felt was under control.
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2. |
Childs of God
04:49
|
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3. |
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just try to figure you out why
You'll never fill me out.
the life that you pretend
will never be a chance.
I always wear in black
the colors to my head...
the things that I could get
you'll never understand
that´s what she say
I´m just a kidult at the end...
that´s what you say
I´m just a kidult at the end...
I´m not your friend
it wasn´t easy to pretend
that´s what she say
I´m just a kidult at the end...
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4. |
Your Roof Your Rules
04:52
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5. |
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Hello, how the fuck yall doin?
You know I’m doin great, cuz I just popped mad penicillin.
I’m on the shroomies trippin, and the drug habit ain’t kickin.
I’m on the codein, slow sippin.
But ‘til the day I die, I ain’t tippin.
I’m Young Quincy from east side U.S. I’ll tell you bout the war games ‘my place.
War in the gangs and the whores talkin’ slang, they don’t know shit ‘till that night when they beggin’ to bang. We all drunk, crunked up on the music.
Didn’t know next day they willin’ to hang. But damn hoe, I don’t know ya name.
Quit callin’ ‘fore yo pimp on the line or ya baby daddy get maddy.
Quit callin’ while I’m rollin’ up fatties.
An’ stop stallin’ ‘fore my crew come to get you and yo punk ass business.
And quit talkin’ ‘fore we test yo fitness. Hang up now, my bois been waitin’ 10 weeks to hit this.
I don’t care who on your hitlist. I stand up for myself when the skank pulls out the shank.
And I don’t give a fuck when they start up the whore gangs.
Do it for the fame, do it so I win. I do it in the art of war flames.
And do it in the heart of the war games.
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6. |
Citizen Zombie
05:51
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7. |
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8. |
Sheroine
06:15
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9. |
Kuklinski (feat. ACCD)
04:44
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10. |
Brunetto El Prat De Llobregat, Spain
Musician, composer, DJ and music journalist born in Seville but based in Barcelona city whose passion for music far exceeds
that one by Tim Burton for skinny and pallid face characters.
More...
www.irregularlabel.com/brunetto-live-dj/
... more
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