| Poor little criminal, timid stockade
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| Rib visit, isn’t full, digital age
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| Simple Simon diamond dog climb calling case
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| You do not pay your taxes put you back on your base
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| King’s in the cape, many ate the pork rind
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| Like dead feather baked in the lake of pour wine
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| Fold what you’re told, hold your golden horse hide
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| For when the levee breaks and your make-up war cries
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| I’ll walk the line with my socks full of filth
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| The tilt-a-whirl, woozy, bluesy box full of films
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| That jog with my memoirs to the top of the hill
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| And knows what don’t kill me, means the oxygen will
|
| Flocks bring the pills watch the leaders drive by
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| With temporary tags and a bag full of bribes
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| Tribes with a tear are in earshots of wife
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| Learn to read the meter and Peter piped pie so he rolled on the meece
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| And made them cutters into what they sold on the streets
|
| Every hat, every glove, every scarf, every fleece
|
| Now we’ve incorporated and get paid off disease cause
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| Hey now, there’s no one to save now
|
| that wait till you lay down
|
| The same mouths Parade around with their blades out
|
| Stop when the missile drop, isn’t God straight?
|
| (Get with their blades out)
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| Stop when the missile drop, isn’t God strange?
|
| Nonstop if you rock, with it octane
|
| Pole position hop six o’clock train
|
| Willed em all, give a call, and if not pray
|
| To leaky nose CEO Ichabod Crane
|
| Mister spot stain like some Greaser that’s gone
|
| AWOL they face on degrees and beyond
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| Leave home, destroy, Ponyboy bleach it blonde
|
| We will get at you dog by who Cesar Millan
|
| Fold down the frame put your face on the bills
|
| They bellied you up healthy but you paid through the gills
|
| Argonaut, art is not Jason and Jill
|
| It’s little Jackie Paper makes your name off your will
|
| And you can stay at home, get your postpartum med
|
| And tell the boss you’ll be in by the close part of next
|
| Tuesday with a goose egg and an old army vet
|
| Get the pistol bring the hymnals from the postcarded edge cause
|
| Hey now, there’s no one to save now
|
| that wait till you lay down
|
| The same mouths Parade around with their blades out |