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- Processed Beats
I ran from the tide
Won't let you hide
Won't let you hide
I drop beats from this processed meat
For a conversation a meditation and
I cut waves like some unborn sage
Just like terrorists on a day of rest singing
- застрелили
Shoot the runner, shoot, shoot the runner
I'm a king and she's my queen
Shoot the runner, shoot, shoot the runner
I'm a king and she's my queen
Dream, dream again in your way always knew that you would
Lose yourself to the scene am I only a dream