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With a flick of the wrist And a tug on my sleeve I pull back my fist And my lungs start to heeve. The way that you talk With the way that you get The stride of your walk How you wiggle your hips It's makes me feel warm Like a fire in June But not a good kind of warm Suffocating in a tomb When I see you I tense Every muscle so tight And every day since I'll be up for the fight I will not fall back into the hole that I dug Cause I'm better than you You slimmy old slug So think twice before you spit on me Cause I got the salt Just think how easy it would be To upend my bottle and end you Your fault Because a slug seems to shrivel with salt
0
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 1:50 AM UTC
Slug
With a flick of the wrist And a tug on my sleeve I pull back my fist And my lungs start to heeve. The way that you talk With the way that you get The stride of your walk How you wiggle your hips It's makes me feel warm Like a fire in June But not a good kind of warm Suffocating in a tomb When I see you I tense Every muscle so tight And every day since I'll be up for the fight I will not fall back into the hole that I dug Cause I'm better than you You slimmy old slug So think twice before you spit on me Cause I got the salt Just think how easy it would be To upend my bottle and end you Your fault Because a slug seems to shrivel with salt
adam-schwab
Written by
American
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 1:50 AM UTC
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