Hitting bedrock in my bedroom Doom ahead, letting ******* led soon Boom through my head shred, spread gloom Fool enticed by his own admission On a mission to set to fruition Either nightmare or a dream Not sure yet if he's **** or cream But quick to jump on sucker who thinks he's lean. Fleeing from battle that he seems to have been in. He thinks he'***** his stride Pridefuly say, that his opponents just die Living in a dazzling, sugered up lie Thinking on a fly about how not to cry If somebody sly may notice and apply The logic that he's shrine is not that divine.