The you should look up in the stars
Bringing up fucking ro-bots
She so hysterical, she say my life ain't regular cause
Compose like mozart dispose of robots aloha send postcards
Of dissecting jeff beck into small compact sections
Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips
Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops
People know not but still they grind and work like robots,
You a young jeff bridges,
Scholarship for my mistress
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