They come from a lab of skunks and skanks,
International or Ninja Dy31@ng,
Where I gotta call my girl,
And where I gotta get paid,
Where it's not that funny,
But we'll laugh anyway.
Bolth of them white, yet whipped...50 lashes!
That's racist? Let's face it,
The boyish man holds the matches.
We burn through the hours
And devour catered food.
From the lunch trucks's hot cousin,
Not eighteen bucks and actually good.
I lol like a baby when the solar army falls in line,
Even James the Iowan can be cool and fit in...
Sometimes; I love times like this.
There are SHArKs in the water,
But I'm swimming in bliss.
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