#12 Bass for cars - by Soldat | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• #12 Bass for cars
• by Soldat

[Verse 1: Slaine]

We the Masters Of The Dark Arts, passengers smashed up in the car parts
Glass sticking into the last ticking of hard hearts
This is a massacre, it’s the underground of passages
Fiercest of the animals that run around in Africa
Bastard kids of Lazarus, the laughter of the scavengers
Painted on the ceilings of the chapels of the savages
There’s nothing left that could embarrass us
We conquered the jungle, built a kingdom and destroyed your whole establishment
Just the idea the unseen is insane
The whole world seen through one dream from one king
The pace walked from a gun duel with a ten chant
The art of war, not a Sun Tzu but a Rembrandt
There isn’t many who pursue what we do
We bear fruit from the Tree of Life and feed it though the root of evil
For thousands of years power polluted people
Now our trusted brand stands amidst the madness bringing you the sequel

[Hook: Ill Bill]

Masters of the Dark Arts, the masters of puppets
We on another planet, not even NASA could touch us
Masters of the darkest reaches of reality
Enter the gallery and witness organized anarchy

Master of the Dark Arts, masters of universal law
Pray for peace but indisputable at war
Masters of the darkest hours of our time
Masters of our destiny, we the masters of our lives

[Verse 2: Ill Bill]

Masters of the Dark Arts, blasting firearms bark
Assassins dive in the high tide and find sharks
Paths designed to glide by like cyanide darts
And climb cataracts the size of the sky to blind gods
And give lightning bolts to frightening cults
Thermonuclear assault bought and sold amongst sheisty folks
Popes, Ayatollahs, and Shamans, ogres and goblins, cobras and moccasins
Soldiers rub soldiers with congressmen
Saudi Arabians on Twitter
Skull and Bones on Google and Facebook
Face off, get your face took
Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body
Secret societies got me creeping with the shotty
La Coka Nostra like Peter Gotti that got an evil army that feast like zombies
A high priest as Ozzy, clap my enemy’s forehead with tattoo swazis
We kamikaze like Carmine Lupertazzi

[Hook]

Masters of the Dark Arts, the masters of puppets
We on another planet, not even NASA could touch us
Masters of the darkest reaches of reality
Enter the gallery and witness organized anarchy

Master of the Dark Arts, masters of universal law
Pray for peace but in ? at war
Masters of the darkest hours of our time
Masters of our destiny, we the masters of our lives

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