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...Shorty's laugh was cold-blooded as he spoke so foul, Only twelve tryin to tell me that he liked my style. Then I rose, wiping the blunt's ash from my clothes, Then froze, only to blow the herb smoke through my nose.
...Shorty's laugh was cold-blooded as he spoke so foul, Only twelve tryin to tell me that he liked my style. Then I rose, wiping the blunt's ash from my clothes, Then froze, only to blow the herb smoke through my nose.
Nas
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