[Verse 1]They lust to show the story, more grody than Mr. CrowleyFor those embarrassed, to no holier than thou, Imoli habitsParrots to the GOAT, we bring ‘em up to speed slowlyOn the low key, kindles is phoney DTastes stale – see the words in shades of greyscaleRight there in black-and-white, protected by chain mailToday’s the day maids await to see a cisternumTook my little mens with her,
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