take ya fake self to taste wealth, gol digg my rhymes
my lines are doper than my sig times 9
walk the fine wine and age wont be a factor, but a pet peeve
i see ya crew is boobs like wet tees'
get me, when zed speaks, ya neck teater toters of ya shoulder bleedin
phukk winter i need to find a colder season
nex word: military
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