My punch lines make you bleed internally,
Secret service insurgents observe me nervously
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service
Divided families and tore 'em up and saddened mothers,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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