Songteksten

This is the sound that the gods will play to part the clouds Retrograde motion of the earth, hopes in a hearse Buried in the dirt with the worst and the best Life's always simple yet we make it complex At least this magazine on doors you set Blunt rolls and a black pouch Roaming backstreets around South All my boys we hit that loud Feel the vibe when they blast out Now let me show you technically what we all about
Written by: Maxime Sébastien Clerc
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