toosik

i know you think you're good cos you write a lot of sh.it,
but its forgettable, i read it but then i forgot it quick
you read my lyrics and you think 'sh.it, that's propper sick',
you look mad you've got a twitch, calm down son you'll pop a stitch,
i take it all back, the lot of it,
yes you have got a dick, and it was not a pic of Kevin costner's prick that got it stiff.
you're not a bitch. im just sayin its the content of what you spit,
that determines if you've got a hit, not just the fact that there's a lot of it.
but you gotta admit, you just got served like djokevic.
and on top of this, you've got the sh.its ,
i guess Its no wonder you're not an optimist.
still your chat wasn't as bad as last time,
and at your age you can't be judged for past crimes,
i would say write something now but eight o'clock sharp is bath time,
in bed no later than half nine,
but at night you're citystateofmind.
a gifted knight a crime fighter.
you roam the streets with your pretty cape behind,
wearing your sisters tights, the lime stripers,
they're kinda tight but, you find you like em,
in your head you shine brighter than bright, like nine lighters.
now in your line of sight there's a fight, with knives and five bikers,
you're like a viper, stick to the shadows til its time to strike em,
slow down time you strike like lightning,
if i am to believe the rhymes you're writing
you're divine and highly frightening,
your minds reciting the kind of night that makes your life seem kinda exciting.
but that's not what really happened, admit it it was a fantasy,
the reality is for every man you see, you brick it and in your pants you pee.
you let out a panicked squeak, turned and fuc.king ran at speed
found amnesty, eventually on your family's street,
now you understand at least, that when the sh.it hits the fan you freeze
you think you're hot but please, you can't stand the heat,
never known a man to weep so much in a handkerchief,
you're the opposite of hot you're fuc.king antifreeze.
first it.was a ganga leaf, a gram at least,
you're on your hands and knees, praying it puts you in the land of sleep
but you can't roll it til the shaking of your hands has ceased ,
you didn't turn out to be the man you planned to be,
your lifes a calamity, angrily yu wave your arms and stamp your feet,
these days you wank all week, well at least t il your hands are weak,
then you sell your ass to a man for free,
so now in part thanks to me,
cable ties round your hands and feet,
you got banged and beat by a gang of three randy priests til your ass began to bleed.
look at.you, 15 and sucking on your grannys teats ,
you always did seem kinda camp to me,