On the track, the 4x4, to meet you behind the park, they tape the scene.
Ur on Candid Camera, the FEDs lay the hammer, the summer with them is always hot.
From me to them, it's Headsprung, when really it's All Falls Down.
When they get arrested, the appeal with the chips, they always rely on that one phone call.
The First Class Shaw, with grenades up his sleeve, the American Terrorist, may you rest in peace.
As we know, talk is cheap, the Werewulf that stalks the pervert in the sheets.
The 90s fanatics, their brain matter is scattered, they stay doin the Dawson's Creek.
Didn't yall learn that your loved ones in the mirror are closer than they look to appear?
Thas when they fear, their stomach in knots, they jus resurrected the Big n Pac, this is not chuggin beer.
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