How does it feel to keep it real within
When the enemy only wants to see us crack
Unlike Rice Krispies, instead moreso a big box of Cracker
Jacks
Are we doing it without sin?
If so, then he who casts the first stone shall judge my
fate.
No one is perfect, not even the one who thinks he knows
About every little flaw, defect, all interrupted blows
To the head; in my mind it is nothing more than hate.
Being one hundred percent original is like, representing the
cynical
Or something like that, sarcasm reigns supreme
In the minds of those chasing the cream –
Eventually, that becomes a bit mystical.
With that in mind, I shall seek to shine,
Recline in the house with dirt-cheap bottle of wine.
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