There is nothing I can do about it now
Go on, give it your best shot
Hit me with your worst case scenarios
You thought so, I might cry, nope.

Why are you so assuming? So your arrogance can actually get you somewhere after all.
Instead of using your brain, why did you use your intimate area?
Maybe that itch is too hard to scratch after all

Oops, how about your future daughter-in-law
She was untouchable, I never even laid a finger on her
I never even talk to her if it is nothing important
I only converse to her when I am bored
Too sad, she is never important on my daily life

They all **** up my energy
They keep draining me

Paramore says in their song "Ain't It Fun":  

"Don't go crying to your mama, 'cause you're on your own in the real world."

After all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Alone. Yes, alone.  

But why is it that when something bad happens, your mom suddenly gets angry AT US and we do not know what happened, then she attacks my mom; Yes, my mom, technically, is the sister of your mom—because you and your stories seem to get more and more exaggerated?

DO NOT EVER USE YOUR MOM ON YOUR ******* PERSONALITY, JUST TO LET HER DEFEND YOU OF YOUR ACCUSATIONS TO BREAK ME.

think again, foolish weakling! Before you broke me into pieces, there is nothing for you to break anymore. I have been broken long before you wished to.

You though breaking me makes me weak? (Baka ikaw, lampa na nga sira pa ang mata, tch.) Nah. It made me stronger, FYI.

No offense, accuse me because I go for blow. I insult you in return.
  
I'LL CLAP BACK FOR A RESOUNDING APPLAUSE YOU DESERVE, "ILABAS ANG GAWAD URIAN" FOR THE FILM YOU MADE FOR ME.

Cut it, rip it apart—
That is how I want to end you.
You and your "Dora" bangs are quite unpredictable to begin with.
Insult me, and I bite back;
I won't think twice before breaking your wings.

Go easy on me now, or else
You'll never blink twice when your fate ends here.

******, you say—
You're acting like it's happening just now.
Is your radar not working? Maybe you've lost all power to control me.

Look at yourself in the mirror—you see
I am no longer like you, dog.

Careful now, silver tongue. Hold that thought.
Our tongues have no bones—
But they break souls apart,
Like a thousand knives waiting to stab you.

Do you want that to happen to you?
I hope not, because I never even wished for it to happen anyway.

Let karma do its job, and I might clap back after.

I consider you the Helen of our family—
That face of yours launched a thousand ships,
Waiting to devour you.