The dead society of a poet
So i rose above it
You muther fuckers smell like a dead rose
Love reefer and love sneaker above those
Ain't no women at the shows
Live from the lamont's rose
Kushed up and my eye red
You could say i'm friends with fred
I smoke butter the same color as jalen rose
Body doze, who ? give em karate blows
Rose an angel we saw precious,
But most times darling the sequel sucks
Y’all millhouse, blew y’all head
Covered the room in splattered red,
So im like fuck it, im out get on your head
Watch your body turn indian red,
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