Another one

Seven A.M. woke in the morning, with Hen and caffiene and green and nicotine.
No dough, so pop a couple of those. Little RIPsta, *****, Mr. Clean make it
gleam, deep in my temple, and I go get sentimentally steamed with my
instrumelody and heated especially for your team and the forty five indeed will
beam in between the seams, destroy your dreams. You willing to die?