| Dark mage, obsidian drape
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| Voodoo, the space as he star-gazing, a patron of art
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| Printed in Matrix, too far placed in his ways of the law
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| Shame as he shaving his face, facing the day where his heart stationed
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| A stationary, deposit the gualla in ??? |
| shavings
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| Projected, aimlessly ranting, but chafing the char basing
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| The tar laces the blunts, give a fuck what you partaking in
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| Four souls, transcend, trapped with a large ???
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| So we see them songs, swat ‘em
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| Jalapenos hot as Guatemalan springs, we faint to breathe
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| We paint the scenes of Nicaragua, ganja, seize it, new Armada
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| Chiefing, leave a piece, and then mahalo, swing it con Youtaro-san
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| Watch the isle tip
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| See the light, pry it shut, samurai assist, sight this loot, slyest
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| Highest nigga of the hierarchs
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| Trees chop, diamond barking, journey to the steep, loft sea
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| Wats, he’s ???
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| Lips too dry to spit
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| Swim in the sky as an astro-hieroglyph, his lungs match his irises
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| Fuck it… |