| Yeah, yeah
|
| I just wanna rock, at an angle
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| At an obtuse, calling at an obtuse
|
| I just wanna rock, at an angle
|
| Gripping wood and grain
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| Hawking, hawking turning lanes
|
| I just wanna rock, at an angle
|
| At an obtuse, calling at an obtuse
|
| I just wanna rock, at an angle
|
| At an obtuse, calling at an obtuse
|
| Steel station, street sweep your surface, Sir Sargent Slaughter
|
| No service cellphone worthless, I’mma purchase
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| Everything perfect, straw like salamander sandals, sandy serpent
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| 4th down and 10 you get tackled, astroturf ribs
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| Gridiron, chill fries, deep sea, Kawasaki oil
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| And my blood’s gone boil, temperature rises, might meet me
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| Outside the fire, lions, tigers
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| Swangin' just like Mark McGwire, swang like Forest Whitaker
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| Carpal tunnel cars and tunnels, the summer cold, tundra
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| Be prepared to bundle stomach crunches and lunges
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| Lunches in dungeons, thunder from down under, disgruntle
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| Longevity, lunar eclipses, gypsy style travel
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| Trapezoid travel bags, terrified tandems
|
| Can’t fathom my phenom, my python venomous
|
| Dennis the menace dimensions
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| Ignorant Lima beans the size of time machines
|
| We diced on ice on devices made by Nike, night lights
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| Made from carbon
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| Copy Swiss rockets, my pitches, side of lockets of necklace
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| Of orphans eating porridge outside of the queen’s fortress
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| Who can afford Porsches but refuse to purchase
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| Soul components for the young and unfortunate |