Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
Im #psychophysical, the rap bastard brushin my teeth with the rustiest daggers
At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses
Lines naturally come out of my mind,and end up looking like bad cursive.
Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,
An obstacle ill hurdle it while i keep the purple lit
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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