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02/19/11(Sat)07:15 No.23613571 File1298117700.gif-(272 KB, 202x237, 1297819984551.gif)
In west Filly-delphia, born and raised, in an orchard is where I spent most of my days, chillin' out, maxin', relaxin', all cool, all eatin' some apples outside of the school, when a couple of colts, who were up to no good, started makin' trouble in my neigh-borhood. I got into one little fight and my mom got fearful, she said, >Implying I'mma let you stay here, foal. So I whinnied for a chariot, and when it came near, the license plate said "fresh" and it had dice in the mirror. If anything, I could say this cab was chill, but I thought, "Nah, forget it. Yo homes, to Ponyville!" I pulled up to the town at about seven or eight and I called to the mustang, "Yo homes, smell you later!" Looked at my kingdom at the top of a hill, to sit on my thrown as the Light of Ponyville. |