Sunset under the guava tree, listening to Nan Cherry, yah, yah…
(Picture the Smee as a rap artisite, patting down the air in front of hisself, letting his jacket fall open and his bling (so ‘90s) slide from side to side, uh-huh, uh-huh,, pumping his hand-held wireless mic in one claw, baseball cap rakishly to the side, shades a slidin’ down his wee nose).
Ah-huh: the Smee be chillin’
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