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lirik lagu paradise strange – perfectly adequate whales

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[verse 1: immortal orca whale, mc marine mammal, (krill k!lla)]
k!lling fellas, cutting off faces, making john does
i’m the perfect porridge for these goldilocks blonde hoes
cold enough to pull the trigger, hot enough to spit fire
panties so wet, they need a second cycle in the dryer
popping like bubble wrap, got moves like double tap
dropping truth as if i’m a personified snapple fact
i hate posers like rappers hate women
to tell my story, i need ten lps of exposition
i’ll lay it out modestly: my presence is a prophecy
i’m jesus reborn, suck my d-ck, merry christmas
i bought a christmas tree and didn’t realize until i got home
it’s not a christmas tree, it’s just my very big d-ck
(cruising like a jet with a babe on my kn-b)
(hand up my pants, it’s an inside job)
(looks like immortal but i can’t be a sn0b)
(‘cause i spent all my money like my name was charles schwab)

[verse 2: immortal orca whale]
got many styles like i’m a model
shoot krokodil and i go full throttle
not juvenile but i spin the bottle
play for a while at my favorite brothel
applied for the navy since i dawdle
under the navel, wearing goggles
just ate a bagel and a waffle
way too much basil, it was awful
hop in my lambo, flex on orphans
neutralize tangoes with my organ
hop in my aston, flex on elders
neutralize -sses with my member
snake in my trousers next to my p-n-s
one simple trick, you won’t believe this
woke like i’m jesus, hot like venus
doctors abhor me ‘cause i’m g*nius

[verse 3: mc marine mammal, (krill k!lla)]
i got tom delonge hooks and aliens exist
get heads to turn when i hit the counter at the thrift
call me a shyamalan rollercoaster they way i pull these twists
dropping solid lines like i’m out here to get these fish
(can’t stop f-cking like i’m david duchovny)
(stopped wearing rubber ‘cause it made my d-ck shrivelly)
(paid the abortion ‘cause i still believe in chivalry)
(create a sonic boom and you still ain’t heard of me)
team paw, yeah, we at it again
skitch our golf cart ‘round the country club until the evening ends
drop the clutch like starsky and hutch
spin the tires out, hardly feel the jolt when it bucks
(most of us are pr-ne to boast and cheer)
(when we host a bash and toast a beer)
(most of you are ghosts who hide in fear)
(when we dose and hit the stratosphere)
(we the boys that you exclude when)
(you’re at home and we intrude in)
(family, food, and lovely mood, then)
(f-ck the dog and c-m on old men)

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