Mother fucker is what they called me before they took the blood test but the father in the pulpit, bitch, I have had it easily manipulated is what you call these people while you preach your own confections your an infection cancerous leach on my vascular system but I've got the razor to cut you free a simple idea loud voice and enough muscle to knock you out, but that's two for flinching no worries and no lynching I love everyone or maybe just love to hate pests in the mist and fog this mother fucking log but this was an ode to censorship and that ship sailed to far fuck cunt bitch and car I said that for a simple rhyme and here we can say time is this self reflexive clever or just a little annoying I'm toying with an idea but this malady is the simple prolific tragedy of our own existence bleak with a side of hope so you can let it float up shit's creek the boat guaranteed to leak all the time wishing I was a Siek mainly for the knife and bangle let it dangle drip and sip the eternal misfit found a fucking home.
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