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Self-loathing
crowbars out the back window of cars and shit
And acting a klonopin binge-hardening
And up the moniker of artists into arsonists

Knock-knock, that prodigal pen-throttle, bitch
Popping like the top of a bottle of hot
Rhyme harder nine joggers with
Shin splints an ornery rhinoceros

Order me my and bother me not, blogger
The option of being modest just walked to where my went
Ponder how we can holler then spit
Than Gotham at six bars in the genre then shots

At and miss nada, Volatile pig brawler
Is hotter than lit parliament, send in fucking army
In the lot of a Target, I'm targeted, piss-harboring
dark as that thick parka I slip markers in

Holla if you've never been a
Spartan kicking jocks and tossing salt at their Ed Hardy
chops, talking shit, rocking 28's on a rocket ship
So I could give a fuck the car you in, nigga

Drooling chew
Blue 'Preme overalls, jump when blues come
Some of you should run from where the shooter's
Out for cheese with a studio, it's like a gudda run, it to us

Shouts to pigeons that I amongst
deliver poop, it's spouting mucus from its stupid tongue
Alpha male, got the chicken losing in his trunks
Losers get a Kuma Punch, I'm moving like a lunch

And I'm back.. bye