| Ayo party please
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| Rather eat havarti cheese
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| With dill accents, black cloak black frill attachments
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| Keep your yap closed about entrapment
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| Sat froze, no reenactments
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| Won’t beseech for a prison style preach
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| And never got riled off of infantile speech
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| Its been a while, since he spent a thou' on a peach
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| Styles low-brow within reach
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| To each his own, prone to drop idioms
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| Roam the unknown near stone of obsidian
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| Hold the phone tell him don’t stop to pity him
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| A true loneshark who’s embarked on presidium
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| Live in a gritty slum with serenity
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| A witty one with a biddy of amenities
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| Like hennessy, ship it with a postmark
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| From 10−3 loneshark up in the Ozarks
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| Ayo he in a shitty car sippin tang
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| Out of a gritty jar, and eating titty bar chicken wang
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| Spitting slang, like nigga let me do my thang
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| And from his sleek beak he was known to speak a different twang
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| And sank his fangs in the plethora of rodents
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| You can sense the intense aura from the moment that you stepped into his crib
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| that consisted of a throw tent
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| He had to ditch the Geo Prizm with the toe dents
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| Under bumper, some grunters and stragglers
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| Known travelers, hunters and gatherers
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| The ny bushmen flaggin down the hitchhikee and then the two dorks pushed in
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| He said he matt and ep is his kin
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| The driver made it known that vg is his gin
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| And just like that, he passed the victoria
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| And said the floor-mats doubled as a vomitorium
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| Yo. |
| yo peep the story son (Oh GOD)
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| Yo, your hark back got you shark black (oh GOD)
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| Catch your heart attack (oh GOD)
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| Dark rap (oh GOD)
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| Ya… |