guess its my turn to churn the subject matter
funkn splatter the pentambic and all of your iameter, I am an eater
of the lost broke and slow fishes
b reclus like a spider, and its against my fins best wishes
i still get tangled up in webbs, i got a habit of tellin the truth to loud and not stayin in the line
but i'll walk it like the road my feet are feeling fine ahh my funkin spine
its time to shine every morning at around 630
all you roosters can bust yer beaks up but you hens can keep it dirty
im just over thirty and can only say that for so long
times strong like the current currency isnt gonna last all that long
so stash all the ish ya can and plan for an EZer way
and I keep hearing these fighter jets every funkin day
playin with their sentence silencers n my pile of monikers is gettin shorter, porter so pour me another please, coma that is......
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