| Verse 1
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| Middle fingers to the shingles and vane
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| Divide skies with the bringers of rain (people are strange)
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| Like a paranoid species on the eve of decay
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| Arrange some beacons in a sequence of remedial shapes
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| I might
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| Verse 2
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| For your medicine little pills on the drying tongue
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| Sold too many feeders to farmers instead of buying one
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| Highest rung tooth pick splintered into your sinus lung
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| Cue tip? |
| (I'm good) no, you’re just dying young
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| Verse 3
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| God when he box
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| Long arm outlined
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| Laws allocating Mallon by the alpines
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| Stat, jowl line choppin up his wonder years
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| Druther’s go forever undiscovered here (want air?)
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| Verse 4
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| For the rabbit ears at
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| Your rival’s house
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| Smoke ring roped to the wing
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| Of that’ll spiral down
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| Devil work, metal merchants, and muffler thieves
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| Luggage wrapped to your parts
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| And his heart’s in his dungarees
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| Over the city, under cement
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| Over the counter, under the lens
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| Over the limit, under arrest
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| Over the bra, under the dress
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| Verse 5
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| Down beat
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| These ugly ducks get their grease flock
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| Hand job buyers
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| And bikers to get their grease smock
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| Freak watch tigers
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| Guygers to get the sketch pad
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| Drew em' by the underlings fumbling with their guest pass
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| Verse 6
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| Out touch faith
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| Ye drown clutched unto thine flood gate
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| Peace out cupcake (sup?)
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| Unbelievers run your codes and bonus features
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| A frogger in the traffic from a lair of lotus eaters
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| Verse 7
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| New heights with the two knight armada
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| The callous part challenge malt two flights and charter
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| March a flag, parking bag
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| Been a bit since we struck gold
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| See me by the cheif while travel trust grove (want smoke?)
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| Verse 8
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| Eight limbs, little biters out of fox holes
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| Document his bait and swap, heist job gonzo
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| Sound proof hoodie, hounds tooth aux Bose
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| Spotted robbin' gobstoppers out the odd Costco
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| Over the bridge, under the tent
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| Over the budget, under the rent
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| Overexposed, under-assessed
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| Over the phone, under her breath
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| Verse 9
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| Four to sky, fortified eye sores
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| In a chorus line of pea soup and glorified gore
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| Dole out punishment, barkin' mad
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| Tattoo brains on bricks, arts and crafts
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| Verse 10
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| Behind the pines sold kitty clutch and (???) jars
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| Mommy got her muscles out, muscled out at the PG parts
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| Ouija board seance, crayons that match your cheeky scar
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| Caught two years prior when wired down at the Tiki bar
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| Verse 11
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| Hello, I’m reaching
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| Peep the plain clothes and keep the J-lo, Gigli
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| Mutilated school faced halo breezy
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| On the last known payphone breathing (want feeling?)
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| Verse 12
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| In the bag where we skip rock, choppy tied saddle
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| Apocalypse chocolate chips on the sloppy side
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| Not kicked, occupied
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| Lock lipped, habberdash
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| Buried X treasure
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| Better drunk Barry Badrinath
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| Over the river, under the fence
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| Over the TV, under again
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| Over the moon, under your bed
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| Over the weekend, under your ex |