i spit my shiznit technology wise on tek wit machines/
wash u, dry u, put u away, right back in ur dream/
and if life's a b!tch wit a pretty face/
u must be death, cause ur face is a disgrace/
simpleton, thinkin he's rich like Mr. Burns from tha simpsons/
but ur not, tha only thing u got in common is ur so weak, tha air makes u start limpin/

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