jag TÅL kritik, det gör mig bättre.

jag TÅL kritik, det gör mig bättre.

lies are true crime
it's a pouring rain , tellin, spinnin in your mind
like every music needs a sound
your breath is the needed rhyme
all around but here on my ground
what's in a lie, that's pure fact
accept these files, it's just like that
'cause when, it don't stop
it's spinning, to your world and back

echoes gathered, words all scattered
would listen if you get to the point
the scars 're there, no need to flatter
roll up your life in a stuffed mixed joint

focus n roll up a stage fixed show
including your screams, the hate n' the flow
adding the good and the low
as well as the gone
too that the unspoken, the life n' your glow
don't miss the parts where fate is the road
when trumbling it down, short although broad
it's a show full of echoes, overstanding the truth
smoked up joints, all times in a row

sweep all the floor this dirty shit 'round
weep to the souls the mortals in the ground
tweak the society 'cause now we're all bound
breath with your ears, it's still music in our sounds

cheating for pride in this rhymed words behind
nor seeking nor hide for what's worth it's still crime
the stealing of minds is the twisting of our grounds
violated words like knocks on each minds

dress up like your clothes won't matter some blood
smile up like a punch would'nt hurt you a bit
it's tastefull, once you're face is scratching the mud
an explosion, then you realise your life is an hit