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QWEL and MAKER lyrics : "Capathy"

Coward human got a gun, he's down to shoot it, run
Bow before his outward spouting power
A flower slumps in the slums

A crushing flood on someone's love, someone's son, someone's done
(Buck, Buck, Buck, UHHH)
And the rain sings like, I don't care

And the train howls like, I don't care
But where them thugs at, so other thugs know just who to bust at
Some dumb $$# brats who buck at other thugs, but miss as much as tap

To cap a total stranger's rug rat
Waitin on the bus mad
Not another mustard?puff?slug through lung and lunch bag

$#&@ cats actin adamant about thug $$# philosophy
But oddly enough never changed a diaper or diaper wrapped colostomy
Rap about zaggin rags, I highly doubt it

Let the dragon out on babies babies, now ain't a side round it
(I don't care)
Drowning flowers ain't a thing, not for cowards fraid to sing

That goes for cops up on Howard
Panoptic tower made of heat
It's raining steel nails through tissue boat sails and gales of dollar cream

Hail increase like collars, fathers martyred out of ink
Think how slaughtered daughters' mothers weep it out without an ounce of sleep
Salty heaps of sniffled "why's" crystallized round her cheeks

Sees the skies as just clouds now
Shouts in her pillow wet
But where my killer's killers?

To fill in her children's silhouette
Chillin, building hell, feelin well, killin something
Blood for miles, high as a horse's bridle, demons runnin, Jesus comin

Told 'em
Hold 'em to an unrepentant sentence, senseless muggin
Desensitized eyes, shruggin pride, to deny your lungs from pumpin

He's the hardest mother$#&@er ever $#&@ed a mother
Brother bucker
Bust at thunder in his slumber

Up to pluck your number
Peace
The Harvest

Rubber Duckers, he's !@$!ed
Swingin his sickle, gleanin brittle garden, marksman sucks you under


I don't care

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