Hide your hickeys from mom and pops. What? I don't got hickeys well you do now, blame your curly cousins nextdoor nieghbor wish you held close clips that cost you chumps necklaces that got you caught for relishing public. You oh you, Babybash could vimit your name better than you wish you could say mine. Don't worry I cry. Don't worry I'll wait for noone like I wait for myself because I find myself like noone. I'm nobody's unplowed bootyhole without mustards sauce with the seeds, your seed girl. Got nuts? I have I'm uglier than you tooting the alphabet for Ben Afleck making quazars question why my wine's changed from Welch's. Who the ****'s welching when I stop wondering who you asked about MY welches, okay.