word to your mother and word to her father
no one seems to post here, like they'd hate to bother
the rhyme king sittin high up in his throne
where'd malibu go, she could still get this bone
I'm patiently waiting, anticipating
some kind of response to this shit I'm creating
never fakin, always hating, masturbating
to televised figure skating
bored to tears, half to death
take a second to catch my breath
then back with another verbal assualt
you need to halt, it's not your fault
it's someone else's wound but I'll pour the salt
it's momentous, my apprentice
could take a line and bend this
back till it whacks and cracks his head
careful how you tread
might just leave you red
from all the blood you bled
just trying to save the thread
don't even remember what I said
but at least it's a post
and with that, late... I'm ghost
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