[Adonis]

Lars, your records mard, you've bitten writens from PR's farm
All jokes aside, you're hard, like my dick being grouped by your daughters arm
My glocks spitten up stream, this trout mouth bish is a fiend
But the the only thing rivers pushed is my dick in the crease of his jeans
I burn Jays by the night, I eclipse you my sun
I'd spit bars in your face but I'm afraid you'd crave the taste of my tongue.


Fuk I hate battling. Shits boring, come get a lesson for free
Puff green legally, see, that's western sea-weed