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lyrics

Wearin a mask
like the phantom of the opera,
here to pop ya
i serve a punk a proper pulse stoppa,
my whip couldn't dip straight if it wanted to,
I'm fresh off the heem and I'm warning you,
opaque like an earthquake make what I take,
just the price of spaghetti would break the whole plate,
coughin up smoke in the bathroom,
trip and I'll flip from my hip quick and blast you,
and I'll ask you
how it feels to be ashed dude,
I don't just act rude, on quaaludes,
beginners should know
I eat sinners for dinner,
as they're praying to god they'll still die a winner,
So if I throw down on a spliff guess who's matching,
not some tragic fat chick attracted to cards of magic,
I blast with a passion and ash these distractions,
everlasting dashing swag got these nuns bashing,
and I got none to spare hun thanks for asking,
spliff passing tasks to grass yet again such a classic,
charge it in her ass like plastic or jam it in her chassy like some ol traffic,
bitch I'm batshit
crazy
I'll batter miss daisy,
sittin in the passenger seat next with patrick swayze,
blacc gets blown more than a snotty nose,
so I suppose snobby hoes can leave their clothes with my foes,
so it goes,
so you hoes know the deal
tell me how ya feel
I don't give a fuck, what?

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Spaghetti Blacc New York, New York

Blacc Ski Weekend Industries, L.L.C. est. 2k13

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