“Sueurs Froides”

I like bein’ alone
Come on out here, spend plenty of time on your own
Cause the city ain’t kind
Other people who sign up for judgin’ but can’t take no
Complacent
This ain’t a place to be makin’ friends, they all got agendas
There’s eyes on your back, fangs in your neck
Thinkin’ I’ve been fienin’ for a taste of this shit
Seem so thirsty, smell fresh meat in the air (Blood on the floor)
So the real test, after breakfast
We’ll see who’s to be here

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