“Rushing … IN!!!!!”
your fliers are open.
--
A Song
I think you got them flea-bugs.
I think you are lame but like them tea-pots
Mama, you like even them tea-squads.
Chorus
I hate the game!
I stay the same!
I stay in my lane!
Everybody…
State my game.
It…is… lame!
And I’m oh-wohhh-ok with it!
Daddy dildo; how much them stored
How far driven nooeee
We have rules fooees
I see the fuuuteeeeor, I see the meteoooor-iite
I keep it flowing mom, I know the pasta — rice
Without the stiffy paap, I sense the hate squad..
I even force them rhymes, I kill them buster-fun (neeeers)
You couldn’t bust them could you, You even love them don’t you?
I keep them sense of rules, You even even break them don’t you?
Chorus
I even hate them cloohhhbs; they have no actual love; I show them actual law
They thinking…. actual snob; they even throw them giirrrls; I feel it, now it’s done…
Sinking… in actual bloood; I rinse even them the cups; I clean for… the love…
Chorus
Don’t even see the point; explaining them the drive ; they pry with sacred love.
They even dare to ask; moving them the pooohsts; they thinking “fuck it”, I’m done
They clueless about the point; with obedience, all be fine; stop break-into all my vibes!
Chorus
