No I ain’t felt good in weeks.
And now it seems
it’s these chinese cheeks.
And everything
that’s passing you by
as the money speaks,
what the Mummy seeks.
Never crossing your
neuro paths,
separated by maths,
with cash.

No, I ain’t felt good in weeks,
And look at these parquet pleats
Raw poundage of satirized meat
I’m beginning to sneak
Make the weak feel weak

The cheat feels free to wanna

Seek no wonder that there’s wander

Underfoot, beneath

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