Hey Mr. Tambourine Man,
Dya know your name,
Is being used by family wrecking whores?
To postulate that they they’re smart,
To showcase they have a grand plan,
Perhaps for the greater good,
Perhaps, to vet more phalluses,
But I don’t think it will take,
A weatherman to tell,
Which way their pussies are blown.
If I were a man,
I’d want to dick around too.
But you know what I’d do?
I’d train my brain and my dick,
To pretend that one vagina,
Was as many as I want.
So I don’t hurt that one,
Heart and brain that agreed,
To go through shitstorms with me.
“I am God”, said an asswipe.
Blew his horns, sounded from a pipe.
All you bloody did was see a shrink,
Who helped you get outside of hell’s brink.
Like a Jungle-man beating his chest,
You proclaim that you are the best.
You can walk on water,
Do things like in the gutter.
Make wine out of pee-pee,
Glamorous gold shit-shit.
Fucking whores on a schoolnight,
I’mma choke your windpipe.
Don’t mess with me, dickhead,
Might light fire to your fucking bed.
Brazilian blow-out, bitch
45 minutes, to stomp you.
You and your cheap trash.
You got fucked, with your hymen intact.
Haha, so much for your party-planning.
Rained on your parade, did I?
I didn’t mean to, I just did my.
You’re a result of a bus collision,
You should be bludgeoned,
During an intervention.
The devil came to strike a deal,
Saw your soul and said no, thank you.
You ain’t going anywhere, losers,
You won’t even get new dentures.
That one is tapped out, burnt and drunk,
Find yourself a pimp and get on a bunk.
Mediocre pleasuring, that’s your style.
After two shots, you can’t go a mile.
Looked up your symptoms on WebMD,
Looks like you think too much of thee.
You got absolutely nothing on me, bitch!
Except that I am a wizard and you a witch.
If it were 1500s, they’d burn you brown,
You’d look shitty, even with your crown.
Gold-digging bitch, you didn’t dig very far,
Nobody’d give you a dime, even in hoe bazaar.
Slutty smouldering eyes, with lungs to match,
A starving hyena and leech won’t find you a catch.
Dunno where I am going with this, this infernal diss,
When you fuck a lemon-seller, you’d get strabismus.
Dangles her baby,
Saying, here, take it.
I love you more,
Than I love the baby.
And you still sneer,
And say, fuck off.
Validation is what you needed?
Attention is what you wanted?
Companionship is what you were after?
Felt haunted coming home?
Did I not validate when teaching your spawn ABC?
Did I not give attention when staying up late night waiting?
Did I not accompany through three figures to seven?
Did I leave the empty beer bottles next to the couch?
You brought home the bacon,
I fried that bacon.
You want money, that I get a life?
I can also wear fishnet stockings,
And get down on my knees.
A decade of high hopes,
Crumbled in a minute,
When you decided,
Hos before bros.
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