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C'mon All My Niggaz, C'mon All My Bitches

de Egg

My ears smoke, awaiting the word
My eyes, the apparition

Why don't you speak?
Why hold your arms so
for chasing crows down?
Mouth a hole of grief

(First the other/Thirsty of the) ghost of (.....)
Will they come down to me now?

Why don't you speak?
Why hold your arms so
for chasing crows down?
Mouth a hole of grief

Princes
You are all princes

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