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Mike, you've got the nerve to come here, you gutless green-eyed dog? After you let me rot here, ground up and caught in the cogs? You sicced the warrant on me. Bankrupt me, dead and gone. What more could I expect from a deadbeat who killed his own son? We are saviors. We are chosen people. We are love. You are traitors. You are home-cancers. You are dogs. It's you or me so I think I'll keep my guns. Let's drain the slaves. Let's dig the graves. Law of the jungle lets us gorge. You've really blown a gasket since you've been swinging left. Unchain the criminals and sentence the babies to death. Take my defenses from me, locked guns and swallowed keys. Blow all my money on the deadbeats and minorities. Let 'em fuck up their own life. Don't stick the bill on me. We are saviors. We are chosen people. We are love. You are traitors. You are home-grown cancer. You are dogs. It's you or me so I think I'll keep my guns. Let's drain the slaves. Let's dig the graves. Law of the jungle lets us gorge. Son what is done is done, you can't rewind, you're not forgiven. Don't fall for promises of hope when hope is gone. All you have done and will ever do is hurt those around you, so if I killed you right now we'd all be better off. And I ain't afraid of the sun Mike. But I'll tell ya what. Heads you live, tails you die.

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