They said G.hop you're a cold code switcher
I said blame it on this dank rolled swisher
I'm just a common ass gray haired old fixture
Tell the people no flash with those pictures
Im always tipsy off of potent bold mixtures
Talking shit to dime a dozen or more hipsters
Openly drowning in pro devil laced elixers
Still I treat language like ancient scriptures
Always weary of ill meaning street trixters
Illiterate in the ways of sacred encryptions
Distorted depictions viewed as malicious
Still I speak in the ways of olden traditions
Suspicious of all modern day urban renditions
Hunters of phrases to be hip with the diction
Not living in facts but boasting their fiction
While I admit an addiction to semantic vision
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