One Dead Chump!

          Master manipulation breeds your boisterous ego inflation.

I'm not of your nation, this channels fuzzy, its time to change the station.

Fuck you punk, you think your shit doesn't stink? Well I wonder if you've ever had a cyanide drink?

Your dollar signs and so called, "swagger", doesn't change the billboard blinking, "Fucking Back-stabber!" Every word you speak is a load of shit, I'm shocked you don't choke on the cum you swallow, suck my dick!

Bite the curb, you fucking fake, shit yourself and cry as I split your face. Your blood will remain on the tip of my shoe, a reminder what it felt like to taste your doom. We were never friends, so its not that bad. Oh, all the copping-out and shit talking we could have had.

A syringe pierce to your ear and a club to your knees. Chop your eyelids off  and scream, "Look at me!" Spray bleach in your eyes and watch the blood-caked cry.

Oh, I thought you were a big boy?

Now Fuck off & Die!