Bizawi - Barbette

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London streets, oxford creeps
Followed hills, breaths, headphones feels
Popping ears, pub with guts on the floor
Expensive wheels, rocks in blocks on Savile row
We going into reception, jammed connection
Muzzled 4G, elevator top floor tension
Glass house on roof tops
On drops of people, she slides across
Black, it’s all black around her white
My 3d track disrupted by her backlight
It burns around her silhouette, we walk
She turns to the room, I stop, then lock
And load in the barbette
She closed the door, convert like sunsеt
She makes me feel likе a dwarfed grown up
Life’s a pitch startup
Obstacles are laying on the ground
You can jump, play, go around
Kick, break, lemme hear the sound
Trying turning to success
You already heard no, look for yes
Put it to the test
Learn by repeating
Improve your pitching

Running on a bridge of words while you shrink
Full sync, gunning like Alice riding a drink
Spray of words, I blink, narrating while dating
A bay of noir , statistical rejecting
Positive thoughts, applauds , deflecting questions
Laxative suggestions a play of obsession
Numbers are bumpers to high, making noise
Wondering can my answers can change the ploy
But then the sun sets, the bets are off
And all the fun facts distracts the wroth
Now it's talking about coffee toffee at some point
Principles of being washy, proxy disjoint
I bow, ciao performance is over
I take it slower, on the way back
Guts are dry, the floor no longer sober
But people are, this wound will scar, I'll crack
You already have no
Look for yes
Put it to the test
Oh I stress
 
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