you only as big as your fans rigging ya mans configure a plan go figure i ran flow sicker than brands no slicker 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 damn 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 shit i ll tear it s fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking with badder beats battery charges me phatter than carter v come with a starter fee 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 and the day time is when i keep it mellow fucking 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 titans 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 fucking image of a saint garbed in a penguin so i m off my fucking rocker i just might need to be reined in skill 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 fucking minutes looks like hades up and did it radius my fucking 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 fucking nasa astronaut passively smashing past you lot dashing immaculate bastard 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 the commerce has bombed since common dahmers have walked they be on the somber shit but whose hand is dominant osama and the bombing threats with divine providence onto the logarithm for how hot can the lava mince 