Genur.art

In the day, we sweat it out on the streets Of a runaway American dream At night, we ride through mansions of glory In suicide machines Sprung from cages out on Highway 9 Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin' out over the line Oh, baby this town rips the bones from your back It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap <lora:tbh4-sdxl:0.8> illustration