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I met a boy wearing Vans, 501s, and a dope beastie-tee, nipple rings, and new tattoos that claimed that he was OGT, from '92, the first EP. And in between sips of coke he told me that he thought we were sellin' out, layin' down, suckin' up to the man. Well now I've got some advice for you, little buddy.
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