- Deaths Row by Hated.If your lost with no place to go, theres always a place for you on deaths row.
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Slit my throat and call me dead, stick a needle through my head. Put the gun in my ear, fire quick
- Short Poem by Hated.Slit my throat and call me dead, stick a needle through my head, put the gun in my ear, fire now an
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There once was a spider named Killer,
Killer was an assassian and loved to fight.
