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theoldearth - astronaut lyrics
you only as big as your fans
rigging ya mans
configure a plan
go figure i ran
flow sicker than brands
no sl1cker than bands
go quick on the xans
faux whip in a van
no ship on the land
bro dip on the cans
get tips in advance
wrote this on the sand
equipped with the vanity, to land the spree in a jamboree
milk it like mammary
slam like “bam! it’s free!”
tighter than a family, a plan is key
screaming “sam is free!” and sam is me
d-mn can a man just see?
randomly, or is it all the plan to see
what comes next in the branded sea?
profanity is the new black, “true dat”
imma keep on reaching till i grab hold of the sky and sh-t
i’ll tear it’s f-cking hair out, no doubt that i will be dying lit
a scientist, i measure why a measure can give pleasure
take that knowledge, copy it and put it in my next endeavor
never f-cking with apologies, i’ve given what you get from me
and never be in debt with me
the flow too dope forget to breath
and whether in the sets of three
or severed into centipedes
it’s always just the best in me
i set it off effectively
can you see
land or tree
where you are
standing, g?
make sure that the latter keeps
f-cking with badder beats
battery charges me
phatter than carter v
come with a starter fee
(i’m a f-cking roman)
part of this sparticus, art is just
martyr-esque
farther than larger bets
on the kid’s harder sets
starter, got far to fetch
part of the tsar is stress
artemis par is this, (arrow, arrow)
and the day time is when i keep it mellow
f-cking with a vibe and let it catch you yellow
and green, i go about the day living scene to scene
at night i never sleep, no, instead i dream
and let a beam of light enlighten you
we all know right it frightens you
i’m toting up red white and blue
we living as the t-tans do
a sight to see indite the free
a fight of me with writing the
abiding see no knighting, we
are lighting up the christmas tree
project the f-cking image of a saint garbed in a penguin
so i’m off my f-cking rocker i just might need to be reined in
sk!ll it seems it is measured by whoever rhymes clock more
never they be asking what goes on behind the locked doors
lost up in the sock drawer,? mach four belt the world in 80 f-cking minutes
looks like hades up and did it
radius my f-cking limit in a light year
they always try indite fear
my tessellation might veer
but never in a sight clear, “right here!”
i’m a f-cking nasa astronaut
p-ssively smashing past you lot
dashing immaculate b-st-rd on
acid, can master scatter plot
of wayne’s discography
logging the pain of poverty
in with the rain of sovereign lottery
ought to rot the novelty, ay
the (uh) the commerce has bombed since common dahmers have
walked
they be on the somber sh-t
but whose hand is dominant
osama and the bombing threats with divine providence
onto the logarithm for how hot can the lava mince?
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