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Puffin the blunt slower,i stand up spit and throws my coat over, shoulder,harsh life made me a young soldier woke up on the side of the world where the suns comfort becomes colder but thats too much talkin, lets assess this situation in this world of mics, my prime weapon is innovation wrestlin fate, my presence is strippin this entertainment, afflicted by this essence that i crafted up in a basement, like im guarded im by an army that mope to pace, we carvin your bodies, waitin for your soul to escape, below to us, yall are rated too slow to relate, so we armed with carry-on scopes with a hold on the stakes, you dont wanna get snatched up, we pullin that back plug, from yall monkeys separatin music from that black stuff, im young black with a hooded cap, speakers with wooden fash--ion, i smash em, this music is my passion
www.myspace.com/jayehlmusic
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