In paradise. My baby broth
- LETTURE 18
- Voti 2
- Parti 1
Pictures of those days,
The people picking up race,
I told you ''double your pace,
Helicopters on the chase.''
Too late, they have shot him ablaze,
Am down on my face,
Shedding tears that could save,
A baby soul from the race,
They have got me running craze,
Am gonna reverse the case.
Target locked,
Rocket launched,
And down with the military base.
See you soon,
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