Though I would drop some stupid shit I cant use
Who’s leg is this, I must of chopped it off of Lou’s Pegasus,
I’m a fuckin dung pisser, I’m a bee that stung quicker,
Than having Shelby and Shelly sell me seashells, in three hells,
Now that’s a tung twister, knives and blades, wives and babes,
Have cut my penis, and I rip my ball sack, then trip and fall back,
Coughing up blood, people say softin up bud, I stumble and fall,
No one hears my scream “Call 9-1-1” and I’m not mumblin’ at all,
I like to tittyfuck a wide eyed mannequin, trying to bust a thin bra,
Share three Vicaden’s with Michael Savage and Rush Linbaugh,
On my drivers license, its listed insanity for having a twisted sin fantasy,
Where I got Miranda Cosgrove, picturing rocks and Sylvester Stalone,
But the fucked up thing is I molest-her alone, but the less-that’s know,
The better, I give you mental wood, it’s that miracle splinter’s source,
This is more than lyrical intercourse, its an exorcism, dyslexic prison,
Where cold rises, and all the demons make the spiritual winter forced,