Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Elite
A face that sneers,
No self reward.
What's the matter dear?
Your tongue's a sword.
A dirty flavor,
Like that of spit.
No lessons to savor,
You piece of sh(i)t.
Your c(u)nt's a wh(o)re,
She is so blind.
You want a war?
It's of your kind.
March 1, 2008
No self reward.
What's the matter dear?
Your tongue's a sword.
A dirty flavor,
Like that of spit.
No lessons to savor,
You piece of sh(i)t.
Your c(u)nt's a wh(o)re,
She is so blind.
You want a war?
It's of your kind.
March 1, 2008
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Elite
Elite