[Intro: K-Leah]
There's no place like my house of cards, my house of cards
There's no place like my house of cards
[Verse 1: Quebonafide]
New Machiavelli, it should be a capelli
New Machiavelli, it should be a capelli
He treats it so instrumentally, so existentially
To prevent others from coming into existence
I have created my own hell on earth
Here where people are totally destroyed
Here where people are morally tired
And this sentence was written just for me
I am the one who opens and closes the story here
I am the one who is looking, the one who is knocking on the gates
It's unbelievable that I'm talking about art here
What is it about? what flows from my wounds
There is no place for jokes, art, their mistakes and sorry
There is no place like my house of cards; Hikikomori
[Chorus: K-Leah & Quebonafide]
At any cost, for power, for rebellion
For complacency, this is what triumph smells
For the blood on their body , I want more than an enemy
For your dirty conscience, call me Frank Underwood
Call me Frank Underwood (x3)
[Verse 2: Quebonafide]
I was joking with this being artist
I am pure destroy, there is a concentration of destruction
I would sign everything, everything, everything
To make me feel like I do now
Nothing, nothing , nothing that
Nothing that is human, does not matter to me
For demand, flow, now it will disappear, I guess there is nothing to collect
[Refrain: K-Leah & Quebonafide]< br/>[Verse 3: Quebonafide]
Lycanthropy and I feel like an animal, right?
I don't believe them in anything, not too much; [?Aristotailo?]
I changed prophetism for knowledge, didn't I?
Confidence - maybe because of this I see the future black?
Vanity - they live this life , because I must easily sleep through my own death; Peter Russo
They told me drop it, stick it in, that's enough
Today I join them in their pain, bitch; darting
Baby, I knock and come out, call me Frank Underwood
That's how it works, looking at the foam from their mouths
It must be like a hidden pain where, if not here?
Fuck the profits, I want to feel in control
This is what triumph smells like, but I'm determined to get it
This is sick, unbelievable-fucking-worthy
How do I come to terms with this rhythm and making small changes
Instead of leaving empty-handed, I'm leaving empty-handed, I'm in charge
[Refrain: K-Leah & Quebonafide]

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS