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lirik lagu blackula flow – jetgreguar

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[dialogue]
the only plane i was on during 9/11 was a different plane of reality
this sh*t ain’t*this sh*t ain’t nothing to me, man
i’m smoking on them tennessee taint ticklers
i’m on that baltimore bramble looking for a tangerine dream, but my nightmares have become eternal
i’m on that habanera scarab gas station d*ck*pilled pack looking for amethyst in a timeline only i can see
i’m on that sh*t they found in osama bin laden’s computer
i was sucking toes at the beginning of time when i came into the primordial soup that got the fishes walking
i caught your b*tch hooking up with the installation wizard, and he sold me somе unwise sh*t that got me acting in a manner unbеfitting of a gentleman
i’m on that aspartame
i’m on that microplastic mamma mia t*virus sh*t getting higher than amelia earhart before all of that mess
we smoking spiro in a glass pipe, and if you f*cking try to stop me, i’ll k!ll you, you stupid piece of sh*t
ain’t nothing borderline about my personality disorder, i’m hard in this sh*t, and i will continue to walk life d*ck forward
alternative medicine made me develop psychic abilities, now i can sense p*ssy in a six*mile radius
had a jo sesh with the fellas that opened my third eye, and now i’m permanently under the influence of psilocybin
i’m on that saharan sun burger d*ck smell taking shrooms from a dragon that called me slurs from a nomadic language
i’m on that alabama ayahua*ayahuasca thunderf*ck looking down from a cumulonimbus formation, spying on your b*tch from a nefarious angle
this sh*t ain’t nothing to me, man
you must got covid*19 the way your sense of taste is f*cking wack
i turned on all the microwaves at goodwill, and it made all the empaths in the room throw up
i’m high on those cronenberg cleveland cum guzzlers, and you can call the cops ‘cause they can’t do sh*t ‘cause my crimes are in the future
i’m on that tarot card thc sh*t l!cking the thighs of time that got me so hard, i unlocked bluetooth mode
i’m not f*cking normal
i’m on that mortal kombat blood code pack, this sh*t’ll make you uppercut a motherf*cker into six rib cages, five femurs, and roughly thirty*forty*three*three hundred and forty*three shoulder blades
this sh*t ain’t nothing to me, man
i got my d*ck sucked at i*at an isosceles angle, now my drum looks like a word problem
smoked on sh*t handed to me by a n*gga named jeff amphetamines, and i woke up having raised a white family for two point seven years
i’m on that warlock pack, sold to me by a bearded purple man, and when i looked into the mirror, i saw a form most nefarious
this sh*t’ll f*ck you up, i should know, i’m you
this sh*t was born with darkness and sunlight, f*cked each other senseless
i’m on that s level bubba kush that made the cosmic stillbirth regain its consciousness
fran drescher was the last person to smoke this sh*t from the horsesh*t nebula ukulele type beat and come out of it stronger than god
this sh*t ain’t nothing to me, man
i got sold edibles by a questionable group of ghouls and b*st*rds, and now when i get a b*n*r, it makes my body take a screenshot
don’t f*ck with this sh*t, finna make your ass crack turn horizontal, got your sh*t coming out like a envelope
i’m casting east coast magic for my west coast audience, and that’s why the sun is gone for good
we deadass smoking spiders, you f*cking weird c*nt
i’m on that dill pickle horsehair hogsh*t f*ck all pack looking for god in the back of a mercedes benz
got so high i wrote my shopping list in the death note, now the cereal mascots got heart attacks
i’m a muppet, i got a hand up my ass fishing out drugs and got me singing abcs like a horse’s ass
this sh*t ain’t nothing to me, man
[outro]
f*ck it

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