| Theory of the 12 Monkeys, left in this cold war hungry
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| We kill over blood money, the cops seem to think it’s funny
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| We murder over pennies and crumbs
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| Plenty of guns, crammed in the city slums
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| The man pity none for this next millennium
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| Kids starving when they breath you can see they kidneys and lungs
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| They left blind, skinny and dumb
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| Sights far from a pretty one, praying to God, when will he come?
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| But half of my crew is atheists
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| While the other half’s waiting on a spaceship, I can’t take it
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| Screaming life is what you make it, so called fake-friends
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| They all snakes in the end, trying to hide they face
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| Try to blend one mistake, I see them grin
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| Try to say we of the same kin, because we have the same skin
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| I live amongst the unholy, we all role weed
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| Thick as Jamaican rollies until the lords scold me
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| And told me, you’ll be my next Moses
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| Go sake the hopeless and homeless
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| With eviction notice arrive like the infant Joseph
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| With a grudge to Caesar like the blood of Jesus
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| I told the Judge they don’t love us, we don’t love 'em either
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| My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer
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| My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer
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| My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer
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| My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer
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| Where do we go from here (where do we go from here)
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| After the storm has cleared (after that storm has cleared)
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| Where do we go from here (like nights over Tibet)
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| After the storm has cleared…
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| My home is where the psycho rage
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| Spending long nights and cold days
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| Inside a bible cage
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| Is it the curse of a bible plague?
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| Welcome, to the cyber age
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| The air’s burning like a microwave
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| The holy lands sees miles away
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| I pour out some Alizé
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| Beneath the skies cause the clouds are gray
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| Jackals pile the graves of the older slaves
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| Reptiles arise, from out the caves they invade
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| The dirt under my nails got a story to tell
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| I wrestle with angels like Michael L, spending nights in Jail
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| Beneath the Hell’s dungeon, with the drunkards tongue kiss
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| We all haunted and unwanted
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| Forgotten city where the air stays hot and misty
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| I see crack fiends with rotten titties
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| Twist the top off a whisky, each block is risky
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| That’s why my shots empty, till the cops come and get me
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| I stay in green camouflage, I see cameras on Mars
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| All ready to start, scanning our cards
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| World famine at large, they got us trapped like
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| Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
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| I’m looking for the city of gold, I pity the soul
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| They take humans and start branding them like food cans
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| It’s like the six points of the hexagram
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| Resembles the sects of man, all my children in Bethlehem
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| I dropped the Tec out my hand
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| Dropped to the earth caressed the sand
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| Yes I understand now
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| I heard a voice say, «Come hither»
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| I walk while others slither, lead me to my father’s river
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| Where do we go from here.
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| After the storm has cleared.
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| Where do we go from here.
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| After the storm has cleared.
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| Where do we go, we go.
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| After the storm has cleared, the storm has cleared…
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| Where do we go, from here, where do we go
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| After the storm has cleared. |
| the storm has cleared
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| Where do we go, from here, from here
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| After the storm has cleared.
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| Where do we go, away from here
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| After the storm has cleared. |