Faster than molasses flows outta camels asses
I spit my elegant bashes
And bat lashes to the masses.
Its tough to rap about the darkside poolside
So I'm keepin it inside and lettin fools slide.
Immigrating to imaginary master's classes
I take baths and passes, so lavish
And classist
As I grow tired of fallin faces
Mired in walled-in places...
I wax thoughtless like 50 buddhist monks starin':
call it deep meditation
And tax the flawless like the 50 truest punks scarin':
call it dead reputation.
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