Get back
You need a tic tac
Every time your lips flap, I’m convinced that I sniff ***
Bet you spit plaque

Didn’t wanna scrap but you were too lax with your words
Now your slacks smell like a laxative served
Scavengers lurk
Will you gasp for a nurse before a nap in the dirt?

I have a face not even my mother could love
She complains I’m the ugliest son
She never mustered a hug
In public I’m shunned
She says nobody can tell my mug from a ****
And that people will shudder and run, unable to stomach their lunch unless I cover it up

Cocky ****** will suffer consequences
If they’re talking **** and don’t hop the fences
Doesn’t matter if they have a squad with weapons
They’ll drop in seconds
They’ll be taught a lesson that’ll leave their doctor stressin’
When they get knocked senseless by a barrage of fists that’d leave pro boxers breathless

I’m only a geek in image
When I eat my spinach, an increase in fitness
Then I can make a demon grimace
Have it *** its britches
Needing stitches after getting beaten witless
Though most just become a ceased existence
My fights are violent
This time it’s birds and stars from the tire iron
Many burns and scars from the prior sirens
The doc’s shocked I can still stand, caught in jams
I’ve been popped and slammed, hit with pots and pans
Shot with glocks and cannons
Bombs and banana peels, even dropped off canyons
I’ve been flattened with a Range Rover
And blasted with a flame thrower
Whether I’m bold or insane,
I never fold from the pain
Even with bullet holes in my brain
Next foe I scuffle, I’ll put an anvil in a pie and throw it in his face
Put his **** on a mantle and pridefully show it to my mates

He’s a scrooge who boozes away
Neutered and chained by a beautiful dame who reduces his pay
While his kids become manure brained playing computer games
His wife gave him bliss and love, but he called her “*****” and “****”
He hasn’t sniffed her **** or been kissed in months
She spits in his muffins and chicken and dumplings
And prefers hickeys and ******* from a bigger **** than her husbands’

Wrote my lover a sonnet
Read one line and she was covered in *****
She hates my poetry
She complains it doesn’t pay for groceries
Won’t let me glaze her ovaries when I say the grossest things
She makes me pray the rosary