But nigga don’t ride my dick when i’m on that high rise
Passos told me "it's a good job.really nice"
Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
Audiences respect the witty girlness and not that dissing curtness.
As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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