t seems lyrical flow is somethin you aren't familiar with/
disected in garbage bags you'll be thought of as a myth//
on my list of to-do's capping you isn't on it/
i'd rather watch you die slow, drown in your own vomit//
speaking of medallions, i doubt you have any/
or maybe you got them in the mall for twelve fifty//
after i'm done your body's never found/
more dark and disturbing than August's Underground//
switch with the honeys? man that's a joke/
from what i see your girl's giving me the deepthroat//
at the end of it all, remember that the scrub wins/
thanks for your time, that was my two cents//
Oh man look its a Juggalo,
go paint your face with your own menstrual flow,
then go to show and give the carnival spirits a good blow,
Your no more than a joke
everyone knew that when you spoke,
before i die i would vomit on your face and make YOU choke.
Now go grow up...a lot,
then come back,maybe then your lyrics wont be so wack