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GRIP
Reaper
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Two legs atop your face
You got your tongue in her favorite place
Four hands set an evening pace
Perhaps the why to a conscious race
As the salt trickles down her spine
As the hot in her legs meet mine
As the blade of her lips connect
I find my grip fasten around her neck
Grip around her neck it make a bitch so wet
Fuck her take a shower then we fuck again
Fingers feeling Flower blooming cryptic red
In her lies a serum for this earthly dread
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