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Bhi Bhiman
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Cookbook
We're cooking the books, We're cooking the books here We were taking a bath, so I took to the mat everyone with a pension Pay attention, you just lost your job, how's your life? How's your wife and my kid? There's some blood in your grits from your hand which I bit..I'd be throwing a shitfit Grab your pitchforks and torches and take to the noches..You think that will work?
I'm going to jail, I'm going to jail now But I'll be phoning it in, slicing garlic so thin it liquefies in the pan Luca Brasi and me start our own brasserie, and open up out on Sing Sing I got my hand in 'bout ten honey jars spread from Crawford to Mars I make a killing, ask Jeffrey Skilling
You don't understand greed its not fun its a need Its the pork not the beans, not the peaches, the cream, that you want in your belly Take what I'm selling and pass me the jelly, excuse me, preserves Tell me what do you think I deserve
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