| Hey yo, our lungs are filled with the purple from the jungle
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| Never fumble, got the work right by the grundle
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| Twin dick sucks for me and my son
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| That’s before he was 3 smoking weed in a blunt
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| Straight from flushin where the birds are hanging dead in the window
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| Scent of garbage make me sick getting head in the rental
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| Got the lamb rack pan, roasted, laced with
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| Little yogurt dapped and drizzled might be a winner
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| Come and see me, known the hand that makes the fettucini
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| Holler make the baklava getting paper bashkala
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| La Majun sour smoking savage out of sarasota
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| Macho man, the taco stand is where the hook is kept
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| 30 dollars get you pussycat, right in the kitchen where they cooking at
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| , architecture art deco, twist the pussy like a soft pretzel
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| I’m such a special guy, I’d rather die then never testify
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| You soon to see me at the party with a vest and tie.
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| Shorts, that’s my steez when I’m stepping
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| Strollin down the streets like the westerns
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| Double weapons, at my size and preparing for the showdown
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| Spinning like a wild maneuver, Whilin' at them hold down
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| Hold ground, stand firm, you little sissies got a chance
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| Now it’s time to give them man burn
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| Yo, he try to fuck with Bronsollini it’s a crucial calling
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| Guaranteed you gonna loose just like the Brooklyn brawler
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| Mister wonderful in shorts, cortex, gortex
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| The bottom of the feet in case the floor wet
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| Flow was sended here crafted on the mother earth
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| Kinda strange things been funny since my brother’s birth
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| Shaking hands, the system money connect
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| Blow a ransom on a yacht, have a seed in Quebec
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| Respect my, exquisite mistique, pretty petite
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| Little hookers running wild, giving head in the street
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| But still, slicing nuts, clean off that’s with the razor
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| I’m laughing in the tavern where fresh bruno’s and blazers chilling
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| Salt and pepper, queen shit, salt and pepper, ps. |