Woorden: Snowgoons. Other. Suicide.

[feat. Third Kind]


[Verse 1: Dwell]
Yo you're like a [? ] mass hysteria, crash barriers
And mess up with that fly shit like aircraft carriers
Now who's inferior? Hearing my name in your area
Like the worms in your interior eating ya when they bury ya
Yo, worms crawl in, the worms crawl out
What that worm gone feel that when that worm go doubt?
Like the world don't see what the world don't need
You keep searching for your purpose, I'm just trying to breathe
Like to hell with five Mikes kid I'm ten Alis
I'm that anthrax blowing in that jihad breeze
I'm like the moment of atonement when you topple degrees
I'm Dwell, one of Third Kind, one of three MC's
I'm well aware that our survival is a primal disease
And that it rivals the revival [? ] climbing the trees
And yo I want to make a difference so I'm begging you please
Put the barrel to your temple, close your eyes and then squeeze

[Chorus x2]
Yo put the barrel to your temple, close your eyes and then squeeze
I'm Dwell, one of Third Kind, one of three MC's
I'm well aware that our survival is a primal disease
So put the barrel to your temple, close your eyes and then squeeze

[Verse 2: Fat Boi]
Suicide, it's a suicide, the type to never talk about us
Yo we sent them aside
I'm like Jekyll and Hyde anger aged like bottled wine
Dealing pot like a banger in the drive-bys
Or disguised like America's terrorists ties
How I die is just a question through living we're sniffing lines
The gossip and lies dead in my eyes like [? ]
Burning inside like lye between a hooker's thighs
I feel paralyzed in the fahrenheit of nuclear genocide
A child's face covered with flies
Criminal minds with political ties
Subliminal knives cripple crack fiends
Side-tipping triple beams
Visualize the infant screams of aborted seeds
Ripped from the womb to form this [? ]
My eyes can't believe this world I seen
I put the barrel to my temple, close my eyes and then squeeze

[Chorus:]
Yo put the barrel to your temple, close your eyes and then squeeze
It's Fat Boi on the mic, the third of three MC's
And y'all beware of that disease of our repairable dreams
Put the barrel to your temple, close your eyes and then squeeze