Thrash
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Cross-Fire

Thrash


Bullets, firing round after round
Bodies, lifeless resting on the ground
Death, rides with those black robes for hire
Killing in the name of crossfire!

Murdering with privilege and stood their stance
No right to judge but still they had
This aint justice (this is) mere act of fools
Rifles could never be a peace bringing tool

Goons, for the government to hire
Criminals, they are please to fire
Peace, so fucking artificial
Shoot'em down, bust'em up, as they desire

Hundreds of round bring them down to their kees
Torturing them to their death
No where to run, no where to hide
Die on your own if you can

Legitimate manslaughter!

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