I play the low in, you definitely know,
You probably never heard of me
Got hands that never shake,
It's a steady hand surgery.
Already been, it's just courtesy,
I'm the MC, didn't mean it to not be MC.
Living proceeded by the B8BU.
Hey, you see, there ain't no mother fucker take two.
Mistakes, too, happen, and I ain't afraid to keep ‘em living,
A paddom with a little pain and leave ‘em with the smell of riffle.
A palid move with a self receiver,
Odd thoughts from a rhyme that you can't tell it's even
And I ain't tell ‘em, either.
I did tell them this, I guess I didn't tell ‘em “give it”
But did sell the cevets,
Say it like I seem repetuous,
I see them come and go, selling out biedous.
I took that to pallan and that they caught me dealing
Better selling this crap to never seen the ceiling
Sell a feeling for the river of exposure,
I'm a thick take it dealing like a no limit soldier.
There's just no gimmick to this closure,
Just the image with the folk written over,
Just the vision of the finished rhyme,
I finish in a sense and I send them all within a sign.
I'm sitting on a bench like it's dinner time,
Not meant to offence, getting my thing.
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