La Menthe Vénneneuse - Tamtrum

Fill her, oceanize her with your fluid

French streets are not what you think they are

You wanted… you wanted a French connection

And a bitch barking at you all night long

She taste the smell of your death

You smell the fragrance of her poison

Aids given has a present

Caught in the fingers of poison mint

She is the graal of those horny bastards

And you’re an apple without a skin

She is the plagues of those alleys

And you the rotten fruit of her revenge

You can go limp, you swine

Your final countdown is starting now

She taste the smell of your death

You smell the fragrance of her poison

Aids given has a present

Caught in the fingers of poison mint