"As immaturity may be a result of certain chemical imbalances, so may the friggin' Skatenigs, flip the trigger on a sucker, squealing studs of pudness.. They sing stuck in a rut in pig pod land.. They share rigs with grave diggers.. Worry about death when it's done come and gone.. You buy their records and they'll piss on your mama's best collectibles.. They beat their rancid meat and expect you to pay the check.. They ream the beef of bad, backstage girls redundant in new wave black: up the butt, snuck, stuck, mucked up, sucked.. I'd eat baboon bile before I'd bite on their juvenile, penile pole projections they casually, smashingly refer to as 'my dick'.. Infected, rejected, afflicted, maledictive, boa constrictive: if immaturity is indeed a result of certain chemical imbalances, then these guys are on a permanent Amoco overload.. Crawling through maggot breath, yeehaa, boys with latex toys.. If buttholes were peepshows then the 'Nigs are the window to the soul of this fuckin' ridiculous world.. Anality's got nothing on these boys except a signed royalty check, a forged signature, the toilet swiped, the mega-acid smile, the glitch in the universal way, yeah, a real boss abortion to brag about at your next bar-be-que.."
The Skatenigs - Chemical Imbalance
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