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lil somethin'
my style is ballistic, n' twisted, complex like physics/ metaphors lurk, in the membranes depths, than disperse, to dish out death/the emerging, sounds from tonsils, have opposers submerge, to molecules/ spittin flames to all outskirts, till it travels round tha earth, comes back i feel a burn,aww man i spit so hot it hurt/
im jus messin' round uno |
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