"None of my friends speak, we all tryna win
But then again, maybe it's for the best though
'Cause when they're sayin' too much
You know they're tryna get you touched."
ADHD, pain pills please.
Continue to read, by mail, CC.
Then once received, it's as if the heart was stung by a bee.
The Tree of Life and Death, the apple bottom, we see.
Read between the lines, align with hope.
Last second shot, the buzzer beater, we don't choke.
Soaked, dripping wet, we make the False Prophet croak.
Don't worry about a flood, we're already provided with a boat.
Back at the PC, a note then is given.
It says, "You are blessed," in other words, you're living.
With a train a thought, oil to the flame.
Cypress Hill Mountain Top, insane in the membrane.
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