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Somnambulistic while, remaining blameless, |
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Encompassing sounds from the devil's playlist. |
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Technics would call me a, turntable sadist, |
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Leave your head feelin' all, cumulus nimbus. |
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Beatmix your soul, 'till you're cross and faded, |
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Lost in the breakdown to, feel less jaded, |
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You spin the tune backwards, to hear what was said. |
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Voodoo grooves, that will raise the dead. |
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Crawl into your brain then I cut and paste, |
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Making beats from your nightmares then we'll turn them into breaks. |
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We'll make the bassline oscillate... |
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As we fuel it with your anger and, inject your hate. |
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We'll extract the essence, of the grimace on your face, |
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Give it low end theory, to make it sub-bass. |
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So we leave, and by, weird example, |
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I'll pillage your village then, loop it as a sample, |
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Play back your life in a tune, |
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You'll all be affected 'cause no one's immune. |
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We're motherfuckin' twisted! |
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Distort the frequency. |