Illuminati - Locksmith

Illuminati - Locksmith

Год
2012
Язык
`Inglês`
Длительность
173050

Abaixo está a letra da música Illuminati , artista - Locksmith com tradução

Letra da música " Illuminati "

Texto original com tradução

Illuminati

Locksmith

Annuit Coeptis Novus Ordo Seclorum scribbled on his back as he orchestrated a

forum

Of high treason his eyes bleeding his mind fleeting protected by the branch in

His right claw feeding.

Eating off the souls of the youth beautifully built a

Bird.

He said we praise Azazel and anually meet at Builderburg.

And I can feel

His words piercing through my head I couldn’t see his flesh cause his body was

Lead.

Wed to his mother Isis his brother was Horus the stench from David Lynch

Impregnated her forest.

The chorus from the Fresh Prince’s theme song ringed on

Til his knees locked and took the shape of a peacock.

Mc’s flock to his presence

To kiss his feathers then he left him for dead like Russian and Carl Wheathers

In all fairness thats the squareness they rely on the masses still trapped

Inside the cyclone.

They spinning out

They screaming out.

To the masses taking lashes from they masters they yelling

Out.

They screaming out.

Blood sacrifice welcome to the after life.

N****

Walking dead as they beg to come back to life

Forbidden scriptures and abandoned laws.

They said pike is the likeness of

Mordern Santa Claus.

A Scottish rite from a god that’s white satanic claws

Symbolic plights and demonic bites from mechanic jaws.

Romantic broads put an

Emphasis on the 2nd month and Constantine used religion to spread the devils

Hunch.

So you ain’t gotta step foot inside of the ghetto once to see what they

Been plotting in deeper then we could ever clutch.

Whatever lust you desire they

Find a sin lodged.

They won’t be happy until we acknowledge them god.

These are

The hymns of fallen Jin.

The memoirs of Nimrod.

Tracking devices inside ur SIM

Card.

The all seeing eye-phone they use to spy on the masses of the people

Consumed inside of this cyclone.

If poems can challenge what u rely on then find

Another bed to go on.

They screaming out

They screaming out.

To the masses taking lashes from they masters they yelling

Out.

They screaming out.

Blood sacrifice welcome to the after life.

N****

Walking dead as they beg to come back to life

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