No not the heiress just one from an escort service
They say with identity comes purpose
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
And rhyme like carlcee. i tell about my service like its my own fuckin policy.
Like we were playing a game of monopoly, living in shitty quality,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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