Dirty Hands

Think fast, have you earned the space
Whiplash, like born and raised
Outside or in the state
What's a border, where's the line
I feel hella fazed

Dry wall from a basket case
Champagne from better days
Black tie, am I losing faith
When the lights, they ignite
Can you feel the hate

Keep your dirty hands
Off my dividends
And don't stare
Looking into my affairs

I'm clean, squeaky
Clogging the machine
A tweet: "Sun's out, guns out"

Down to earth, did you feel the quake
Shuteye during air raids
Tight squint from the aftertaste
Tug of war when it comes to handshakes



Credits
Writer(s): Sean Michael Raab
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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