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I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING MIKE IN MY HAND LISTENING to the rythem of the morning sweet songs of the trees Given gists of me by neighbors to my gees when I am rapping to the beat they say Im Preaching like pieces of night. dreams full of cream on the screen screams bite, leaking out the sorry
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I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING MIKE IN MY HAND LISTENING to the rythem of the morning sweet songs of the trees Given gists of me by neighbors to my gees when I am rapping to the beat they say Im Preaching like pieces of night. dreams full of cream on the screen screams bite, leaking out the sorry
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