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lirik lagu dryas (rap) - manhunt

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f~ck society, that’s how i’ll start
ain’t n0body have no heart? no sense?
if i through art defend myself
it’s considered an offense
a threat, some kind of violence
or a motherf~cking revenge

i’ve been mostly criticised and accused of sh~t that doomed me
even tho’ i never do ’em
persecuted, muted and almost executed
just because of these phoneys up on their own poniеs
that amused and confused thesе people that believe misused
media and grieve for bullsh~t they ain’t even lived and use it
for whatever better suits their ego boosts, then canonized this
culture of vultures that attack wherever they find a compromised
group that back then agonized for being brutalized, like apartheid
but now it went the other way around, they’re crowned
just see and explain me this, how

how can it be that they just speak of me, as a creep, a freak, a
d~mn criminal that sneaks and and peaks behind your back and smack your face while i’m on the other side of the sea in
a lockdown because of covid! then come to my face and ask
“how the f~ck could you do that?”. but when i try to speak they
shut their hearing and act it all up like it’s all my fault that
when they look up my name this cr~p comes up!
(oh no!) but when they chase me for six years
with this sh~t they hear they say they fear me but
they come see me and hit me up like a spear throught the heart and
tear up, my dear, isn’t that like a manhunt on me or what?
well, it seems i had “more than thirty” victims, even tho’, no limbs
nor ears or tears were found, no proof of abuse to conclude, we cool?
now hear me out

i feel like the grim reaper, or even jack the ripper with a demoniac
insomnia attack, i might just smell some of my ammoniac to sleep
pop in some klonopin ’til i pass out and get knocked out
and if i wake up i’ll drink a virgin’s blood martini with cocaine to
even the effects of drugs, like a good thug, then go for a healthy
morning run, just to see who’s the snitch here. you see, b~tch, you
think all this of me but you hitch everytime you walk ’cause your
itchy p~ssy gets f~cked up against the wall, by the clock, getting
choked by jocks you mock on your profile. that’s your lifestyle
just a pile of junk, toxic as f~ck b~tch! with an annoying voice
pitch, you’ll burn like a witch, all those redhead chicks with dreads
who fix their hair by shaving then make a reel on how to speak with
your male to see how to solve your sh~t together. what the f~ck is
that? just cut the cr~p!

you brat rat sl~t just shut up
and stick to reality this ain’t
nineteen~eightyfive is two~o~twentythree
put on your green shield on your neck and lean
to get f~cked up while you clean!
like you did in the motel, remember?
cleanin’ the bathroom floor while the time was
almost done and you swore like a wh0re
“so i gotta clean all alone just because i’m a woman?!”
no way man! you crazy ass c~nt
you said you’ll provoke a social murder on me!
yeah, i know, now you choke on your vocal chords
’cause i know that audio you throw
on the groups you make
and the loops you made
as you copy and paste and send this sh~t
(oops! guess you made a mistake!)

now let me introduce to you the “abused” girl
who diffused this accused artist
who refused to be used as a target
of abuse who pursue the truth
to cut through the lies of this pr~ck that
cries and tries through disguise
to advise all this cr~p of men

she never had no bruise, no clues
no proof, no news, just a lot of opinions
of her minions, contradictions in her fiction
an addiction to attention
not no mention the tension she gets
when she gets refused and unheard
every word is absurd
she recurred to disturb people with fake identities
and wake up curiosities that break her necessities of fame
and became the same name she blames and claims i am
but i had the b~lls to walk the halls of fame
through my youth, and it soothes me to see how
they agree that the crazy is you, not me
now f~ck you and all of them
you wanted me to speak? here i am, godd~mn!
i’ve been always open to talk
but you f~ckers never want the truth
just controversy
so f~ck ’em!


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