| Firewater
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| I wield the Ichabod Mortimer
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| Midnight marauder
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| Corner store loiterer
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| Dark corridor voyager
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| Baccalaureate in fangoria
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| Poet laureate
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| Prehistorian
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| Stegosaurian
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| Hornyish
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| I mean, triceratopsian
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| Topsy turvy
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| By duds stained dried blood burgundy
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| I make cuts like surgery
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| Certainly
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| It’s all first person
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| Personally
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| I make Hercules run like Mercury
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| I make mercury rise
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| Mirror, mirror
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| Who’s the fairest foodshopper in the Fine Fare?
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| Audiological warfare for mademoiselles and mon freres
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| I can’t fail
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| I don’t feel no fear
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| Yeah
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| When I hock spit toxic hot spittle
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| They’ll hold you like a hostage
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| In the hospital
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| Trot Nixon, sock syllables
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| Inhospitable
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| And all attempts to feud are futile
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| Don’t get it confused
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| It’s my short fuse and your funeral
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| And that’s irrefutable
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| I’m not a dentist I just brush a lot
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| I eat muff a lot
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| Not!
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| Though I have in the past and might in the future
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| For setting roofs on fire, I’m despised by roofers
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| I do the kama sutra
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| A super kinda tune, coming through, my bazooka
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| Mad dudes like «duke nuclear»
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| I’m Duke Nukem
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| So it’s the start of your ending
|
| And that’s based on the pretext that y’all all pretending
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| So keep talking about your bad temper
|
| It’s mad tempting
|
| Rec execs, be attentive
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| 'Cause I’m finding it hard to comprehend why honorable men only get honorable
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| mention
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| We now present you with the present tense, reinvented
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| It’s funky and it’s heaven sent
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| Which makes it heaven scented |