| Blah
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| Brick pelican fam
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| Cruise
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| I’m telling ya
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| I’m smoking out the mega bus
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| With two French hookers and an ounce of lemon kush
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| Whiskey in my flask
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| Tapping the spliff on the, floor
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| And spitting in the ash
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| I live for rock and roll
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| Future pop puff rah come joints said lister on the doll
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| Just get me and the crew beer
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| I don’t give a one of many good words I could use here
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| Shit, I don’t know what the fuck you are
|
| So here’s some random words to fill another bar
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| Your Rolex ain’t shit
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| I want a Ghostface style gold kes bracelet
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| I kick that funk like I was made to do it
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| I mean like proper putting my laces through it
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| Making music when I’m too blitzed to do it
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| Tin foil fronts don’t need to prove shit
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| Sweating whack juice
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| Diluting everyone else’s style You selfish child
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| Yeah
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| I was gonna fake a smile
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| But I’m stuck with a frown
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| Plus I’m too dumb to dumb this shit down
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| Me and the word fool looking well suited
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| I know to much I’m trying to smoke myself stupid
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| Hey cupid, Can I ask one favour (tell me)
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| Will it be ok a million sad songs later
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| Or can I skip a few, smoke a spliff of two
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| Drink a brew and watch this Louie Theroux interview
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| I had something else to say but this’ll do
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| Is number 10s letter box big enough to fit a missile though (Well)
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| Hear this blah sippin shit mix a with spits with your ma
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| Tin foil fronts in the new swag the second wave
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| We can do this lets be brave
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| Its exactly the same but its well different
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| Don’t respect bitches don’t know how to spell ignant
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| Stressed, panic, don’t know what it is yet
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| But the best bets a bet and the best at it |