Games Testo
Testo Games
(feat. Sebutones)
Is this a game or is it real? [x5]
[Buck 65]
I know I'm being followed by invisible men
Life is good, but why am I so miserable then
I'm second guessing my every decision
But my hand is guided with heavy precision
I can't even trust my own eyes
But actually everything I do is done with pin point accuracy
At least once a week I come this close to dying
But nothing ever happens
Am I supposed try and kill the heart of a man?
Or is every move I make just a part of the plan?
What should I expect the last mathematical invasion?
I refuse to believe my life is a mathematical equation
Can I do to pull the plug?
Or burn the bridges?
What if I start doing drugs or turn religious?
Every involuntary swallow brings a pattern and a chance to wear
a halo like the rings of Saturn
But do my family and friends know that I dome the back of my mind
To the back of my throat?
In front of my face and under my nose
No wonder why nobody notices any of this
I am expert, indivisible, miserable, individual over my head still
Burning the tread mill
One step faster than the man with the master plan, baby
Is this a game or it is real? [x5]
[Sixtoo]
Each move is like a simile
Compare to what I see to what I remember
Which pretender are you?
By standing on that same corner I've seen passing me in the present. The dream
Bend these words to mean what they mean now
Somehow lost in five double-U's
I misuse the game and then I forfeit the check mate
Rotates bishop, wait
I remember the next move
It goes something like:
My paper meshes weighs falling and I take flight
I fly into lay ups at night, see my piece is already there
See all the workers disappear into clarity
Never compare me to myself, I know us well
Living in between imagination and the parallel
One thing leading to nothing at all
another thing leading to itself
Is this a game or is it a real? [x5]
Is this a game or is it real? [x5]
[Buck 65]
I know I'm being followed by invisible men
Life is good, but why am I so miserable then
I'm second guessing my every decision
But my hand is guided with heavy precision
I can't even trust my own eyes
At least once a week I come this close to dying
But nothing ever happens
Am I supposed try and kill the heart of a man?
Or is every move I make just a part of the plan?
What should I expect the last mathematical invasion?
I refuse to believe my life is a mathematical equation
Can I do to pull the plug?
Or burn the bridges?
What if I start doing drugs or turn religious?
Every involuntary swallow brings a pattern and a chance to wear
a halo like the rings of Saturn
But do my family and friends know that I dome the back of my mind
To the back of my throat?
In front of my face and under my nose
No wonder why nobody notices any of this
I am expert, indivisible, miserable, individual over my head still
Burning the tread mill
One step faster than the man with the master plan, baby
Is this a game or it is real? [x5]
[Sixtoo]
Each move is like a simile
Compare to what I see to what I remember
Which pretender are you?
By standing on that same corner I've seen passing me in the present. The dream
Bend these words to mean what they mean now
Somehow lost in five double-U's
I misuse the game and then I forfeit the check mate
Rotates bishop, wait
I remember the next move
It goes something like:
My paper meshes weighs falling and I take flight
I fly into lay ups at night, see my piece is already there
See all the workers disappear into clarity
Never compare me to myself, I know us well
Living in between imagination and the parallel
One thing leading to nothing at all
another thing leading to itself
Is this a game or is it a real? [x5]
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