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Roundabout

de Viscera Drip

Fatal
There is no way he get it
Face down
No regrets for made it

I went mad
I said not to try me
Fatal
The way I shot him

I went at him and said nothing
Four shoots at his back and he fell alreay dead
He know who killed, He knows what he did
Became a killer cause I made him dead

I faced
The felling of the killing
I made it
His blood painted all the street

The fear
That pass through my guts
Make me
Want to kill again

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