Lyrics:
myself"
My shell, mechanical found ghost
But my ghetto is animal found toast
My shell, mechanical found ghost
But my ghetto is animal found toast
My
friend
You are a flower harvester and I am your cluster
Wake up, my friend, when the sun is shining and it is not time to sleep; Turn around and rejoice
the cuts - unleash a cluster of thoughts I muster
I talk to touch ya, and rupture commercial communications
Convert solar energy, into imagery
In
oxygen
Rip it often with specific impulse, increasin' thrust
Grease the cuts, unleash a cluster of thoughts I muster
I talk to touch ya and rupture
butlers
Rushing every hour like I'm tucker
Shots fly in a group like a cluster
Sell wings to a bird imma hustler
Hol on bring it back
If u texting my bitch
can't escape
So dance with me on this star cluster
Then off to a whole other wonder
I keep hearing my name from somewhere out in space
Please tell me,
y'all gonna fill in time, the chalk line
Walk da flatlines [2x]
Another evil day, music melodic, Reel Life Product
Mechanical, my mind's smokin
the stars
Probably mars
Red carpet; cluster Am shooting out Make a wish
Living a trail print Blue print
Before I burn out
Intentions pure as a plane trail
son of my mother
It's just me & him so we got us a Cluster
But we calling up Merkuri
Took back our hearts now we doing the burglary stop all the pain
Mechanical compound eye
Imposed observance. Sentries in the sky
Vigilant lenses. Objectives belied
In blackened heavens covertly they hide
They
of torture leavin' me out of order
Like some mechanical instrument, and if it seems coincidental that
I'm never where you are when you want me to be it's 'cos
incredible range
And impeccable gains
I have mechanical veins
And some untamable flames
I have to put you to shame
Best to just stay in your lane
A monster is
guardian
I roam this abysmal plain of life
The name is surveillance
I watch over you, don't step out of line
Don't meet this cadence
An instrument of demise
master a technological instrument
I hate war with mechanical robotic assistance
I love war with fanatical Kamikaze missions
I love Rome when she raged war
station wagon that they call the circus wagon. It holds everything they need: instruments, sound equipment and maps. The Animal has switched back from
on the massees
execute with mechanical aggression
arrogance and extravaganze
march an unapproachable
shut out the outside pressure
or are you too weak?
when
and the gyal on tempo like an instrument
I move hetro I move with a ting
I ain't retro I'm just into it
Yeah I'm just part of the problem
No labels cah I'm
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