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I've been learning about myself
I've been thinking about my rules
I've still got your sports tape on my desk
You gave me for my tattoo

Your shirt
Crackheads point the finger at Detective Slick Morris Gittins
Paleface cop who done popped the desk
And got the chop on his neck from when he knocked Celeste
Speculating on the next life thinking
How I connect if I'm talking in riddles
I got a thing for the desk jobs
I like some space to get interstitial
Check me
said, "I guess" 
Substitute to Santa, she was sittin' on the desk 
And then she said, "You never called me, Mailk you never tried to press 
You never
showed up
Just like bounced checks, rubbin' their necks
And the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol
And the parking lots growled
And my old sports
up to the desk and said, "Look here man"
What time did you say my baby's gonna land?

Well he looked at his book and he said, "Hey sport you got
she continued to sin
Spread wide on the desk, paperwork all in a mess
While the ceiling fan blowing her dress
Ten minutes of jerking along with
she's coming up to my room
Just bought a new sports car and filled it up with some fumes
Dream in psychedelic ways
I fall apart every day
I sit
and one in back of them ready for a new sport
there's 4-5 suckers way way in the back
stooped down low with the crowd smokin' crack
they looking at me funny
back of them ready for a new sport

There's 4-5 suckers way way in the back
Stooped down low with the crowd smokin crack
They looking at me funny coz
Now in my younger days I used to sport a shag
When I went to school I carried lunch in a bag
With an apple for my teacher 'cause I knew I'd get
Now in my younger days I used to sport a shag
When I went to school I carried lunch in a bag
With an apple for my teacher 'cause I knew I'd get
And the manager says: Sharkey?
He's not at his desk right now. (Oh yeah.) Could I take a message?

And Sharkey says: Hey, kemosabe! Long time no see.
He says:
the course when your
Sport's tearing down trees
Pounding them down into powder to power these
Towers you've founded to round our accounts
Seize bountiful
Hands on my ribs, lean in
Left my shoes at the rental desk
Wrap around the back, through the eyelets, then bunny ears
Proudly tell my dad, did you
Miss?)
Give revision cards back to me (revising)
Best in the class tell Steveo yeah
Marshall called me a revision master
At desk in library, I'm revision
Today's assignment: How to cook meth
Cheerleader team comin' home
With dick breath
History is all lies fuck sports
In your letterman coat
You're nothin' but
get me a file

The style that I sport is always Bergdorf's
I don't take no retortin' cause my desk is my basketball court
I play the sport with all
on the city lights
Collapsin' on the upbeats or relaxin' for the night
He steps into a crazy hotel, the desk clerk hands him soap-on-a-rope
What does he mean by
We got Shannon Sharpe and Skip Bayless 
And all these sports people talkin' bout 
Championships, and basketball this
This is rap
Y'all out
desk, tell them to send the maid up
While we play the terrace and blaze up
These detailed lyrics is far to intricate to be made up
Not pimping, what
laid up, calling the front desk, tell them to send the maid up 
While we play the terrace and blaze up
These detailed lyrics is far to intricate to be
these vultures
Enlistment predicted to be held over
Hired wired cobras to work front desk, smoke
Dress the dress, pure moist no choice but to be less
His
at the writing desk
and smooth out a story, essay, maybe even a poem
Been told my gift is heaven sent
So when I hear this Fortune wheel nonsense
Is more or less

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