Hmm, I'd like to start with the GOODIES departments now under seige. You'll never hear of the stalemate shootout (one weigh) via the knew regime betweenst our old guard and the knew. That's write mother fuckers. You ain't reading it. I got pressure with you coming out of your tortoise shells awe jerky neck and flexing and the currents been. That Fucking Bad! Your shit's just now starting to cook! You want me to tell you when your, done. Done...
Awe that, all in the split fucking trilliseconds between the words and timing of the stanza! In real time...
Now that's a span of timing in the stream of a thought!
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