She seen that geechi shit, ain't been to church since
I'm made from micro pieces consumed by the demons
I ain't ever ask for nothing to make it right here
Inner city hippy with the heart of steel
They bringing me fish and chips
Gettin to know his demons
Just to feed his inner cat, his inner batch of unheard raps, getting fatter
And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for
No one's safe from my inner maniac/
To getting rich off a dream, i throw it the bag
And you ain't doing nothing wrong
Help us find our inner song
See what i was taught
Of my inner monologue
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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