Lletres: Low. Drums & Guns. Your Poison.

I've spent a lot of time, good people
Trying to make it rhyme, good people
It gave my mind a little place to hide
If you don't like my lines, good people

You better open wide, good people
Call the chief, it has become my belief
That your tongue is the weapon
You cut what you reap with your poison

Your poison
Your poison
Your poison