ILL like the planet Andromeda but my romantic thermometer need
Calibrations, flow grace rhymes a showcase a barometer’s creed
Proper like a doctor I prescribe drugs, see jive scrubs but from
A tribe of thugs just shot five slugs and still had to run in the slums
Gunplay every Sunday true church is too much have to preach
To reach cats, heart all broken but like a small token on streets
With a donation in this flow situation like a baby awoken from sleep
Look in my bill fold ill and bold then pay whack rent after sacrament
Some cats sad and very phony like a bad ceremony your facts are bent