You climbed mountains and built skyscrapers
You made tv shows and put out newspapers
You wicked good at doing stocks
You like when Emilio would change your socks
We never hang out and that makes me sad
All the good times we could’ve had
But when I die,
uncle Preston,you’d better say,’cheers’
Cause me and you are hanging at the pearly gates
I’ll bringing the beers,I’ll bringing the beers
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