Luyện nghe bài hát Synplicity

Kings and Queens, just us where we should be (you motherfuckers)

Is my mind explicit cause I hang with a
Hand and hand the hatchet but its nuttin familiar
Nonbelievers keep walking till we arrive
Black smoke the family with the red in our eyes
Cold chills from the holding on to the past
With a pistol to the temple cause your lifes movin
Devastated by the that you need to escape
Right hand on the book, flip the page, choose fate

Kiss the dead, on the red moon
Will they cry? Well I think they just
Torturing! What's a tear?
This ain't Hell, but I'd rather be
web, makes it hard to move
Death awaits, yet I have nothing to
souls, in my mental game
Murder comes, and goes with no kind of

Power drains, as the dark becomes
Trapped motionless, the chords are too tight
What will ever become, of this book that I
Will the burn us, like they told Synplicity

Rain drops fall the dark night sky
Bodies crawl from garbage and alleyways alike
You can find me there in the shadows a doubt
Time for my people and me to come
Children of the River, and the misunderstood, downtrodden, and but
It's all good
What you throw away is ours to keep, you know the children a pillow
When they go to sleep

Your disease, infectious
Once I know, your the of my lust
Acid rain, on and stick out your tongue
There's enough, for and every single one
Right or left, follow me
Pyramids, is necessary
Crystal ball, it's Synplicity
Kings and Queens, just show us we should be (you motherfuckers)

Power drains, as the becomes light
Trapped motionless, cause the chords are too
What will ever become, of this book I hold
Will the fire us, like they told Synplicity

I was running with a down the block, my leg got popped
When I a dub at the dope spot
Everybody out to get me I go, is it a sin to get your dick sucked
By a (fuck no!)
about the fact that I bring the dope guns, stay outta my way and don't
Make me to use one
Can't help the feeling, my overloads pull the trigger and unload

Power drains, as the dark becomes
Trapped motionless, the chords are too tight
What will ever become, of book that I hold
the fire burn us, like they told Synplicity

SYNPLICITY!