Sloth is the enemy of greatness
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Reflection a scalpel to my mind.
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We strive as you leisurely criticize
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A free ride until you find that you've dug your own grave
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Lie by lie.
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Just a running mouth
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Poison words you throw about
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Drag you to your end
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The number six
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Leviathan.
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You've dug your own grave with your spite
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You've dug your own grave lie by lie
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A cancer that needs to be cut out
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Sweet slander the razor to your throat
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Trim the fat
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A loose end to be tied up and cast aside
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Left to find that you've dug your own grave.
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A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty
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From one who is just rotting there
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In slut's wool and zero history
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Aesthetic condemning
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Erratic condescending
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An empty barrel always makes the most noise
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And I begin to feel my hands around your throat.
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You've dug your own grave with your spite
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You've dug your own grave lie by lie
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A running mouth and poison words will be your end
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The number six
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Leviathan.
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The Number Six
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Lamb Of God |