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.