Fanatics

I'm hauling, bawling daring and

taring stunts whist calling people cunts,

now I'm brawling like the almighty pawn daunting, with no warning.

Your all talk and no pack rapping action or word forming.

If you think you can meet me without a cheat sheet,

i rain sleet when i stomp storms to the beat,

benchmarks that hit peek and produce heat,

print a receipt out of my ass crack for you to eat.

Don't weep, kickback and consider it a treat.

Mention me in a tweet, speak of me on the streets,

be the extension of how i exploit the weak.

When i pinpoint you at the midpoint,

delete your checkpoint, and relocate you at the endpoint.

I hexed this joint, when you toak your memory will reappoint.

Soak bread like yoke, yapping non-funny jokes,

His noggin will need jogging

or it'll start nodding

like a goblin moshing,

knocking one off whilst his own mother is watching.

Sniffing his dirty washing!

The problem is not the weed, its the lack of flossing.

His teeth are falling out of their sockets,

no roots to hold it, dropped his last tooth and lost it. Shit...

"Where is it?" Under the bed? in the depths of the shed?

in his mothers room where she hides all of his meds?

Nope... No luck, kill the tooth fairy instead.

That bitch is dead, decapitated head,

fed to his pet zombie, Ted!

He keeps him in the shed,

feeds him other peoples pets,

staples signs to the maples up so nobody suspects.