Flatline

By Vents

On Hard to Kill

Released on July 28, 2007

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[Verse 1: Vents]

Yeah.. Trigger Fist, Vents One, Balboa

You know what this is, check it out..

My rhyme will cause heart disease

We move like star police after bomb blasts that plagued the Balinese

Half the streets is war-torn

My thought born style deforming soil you walk on

My fork on a leg of +Lamb+, the death metal band

Yeah, we raising limbs to praise pentagrams

You met a man that lost faith

Chumps running up in my crib for the gems that's in the locked safe

Robbing octaves, chopping breaks balaclava clad

This ain't a passing fad

From Peepshow to Breaking Tooth, we the army that shake the roof

The example of wasted youth

I could make you move with the power

Of a powder charge from a shotgun blast

Submachine rhymes from the depths of real shit

I burst to kill quick, ya dig?


[Hook:]

Flatline

Flatline

Flatline

Flatline

Flatline

Flatline


[Verse 2: Robbie Balboa]

..Yo I sip on a glass of B, in a bar full of LSD

Punk on a path of Chi

Pass the e-ffects, I wreck

Check your neck for the technique, dissect the beat

My brain like a cell that's starved for heat

Best friend like a carcass, carve the meat

I'm hungry, looking like Dahmer the cannibal

Crushing the skulls in the arms of mechanical

Pull the switch and I flatline

Centrelink queues to look for your smack find

Another life to waste, the piper plays to the rat race

Catch a case of the bullshit

You paid for a bitch to dance in your film clip

Where's the real shit? Here's the duct tape

Chill for sixteen bars with a nutcase

Watch Video Hits, twist to a flick on a snuff tape


[Hook:]

Flatline

Flatline

Flatline (Check it out, yo)

Flatline (ay, yo)


[Verse 3: Vents]

I flatline and rebirth

Emerge from the dirt, return to pervert

Invert the cross, burn your boss

Tame the beast, teach police, forgive the priest

Don't send no stealth bomber for peace

Impeach the prez, that's self-defence

We'll give the land back, don't sell the rest

It's Vents on the rise, no compromise

Bloodbath the plan, you democratised

Now, I got a four-door Ford that run

On the blood from somebody's wife daughter and son

Now you wonder why they blowing us up

But look at the flash when the bomb drop, stay low then duck

Fuck the beef, I need some time to breathe

Cut a few ties, run a few miles and leave

The dogs to bark, talking that yap-yap

You ain't cutting nobody, that's that

Make your heart flatline ...