Imitation is the highest form of flattery?

[david stern razor burns]

Incineration in rhyming form, the savagery:


I’ll fax fox a faggot fax with faggot crossed in the faggot box. I’m a vagabond, who walks the streets. I’m uh-oh, but not as cheap. OLLY OLLY ROTTEN TEETH! Calling all with jaw disease! I’m always on that Copy steez, big fake dick in my Tommy jeans while I’m multi-ing to the hockey theme. THE BOSS IS ME. I bomb the streets with cherry bombs, and all policeman terror squads. All your schemes is very long, so I’m Bostoning your marathons. Stop it, Jesus, care at all? Not the least bit, carry on….I’m understating a hundred ways of saying undulating in every statement. It’s undulating how undulating one would wave this, as I’m underbating my humongous paynis to one big baby like that dumb Fig racist. Fuck you faggots. I punch through faces with one huge hand up like kung fu panda. One huge hand up is the opposite of Rawn though. I flubbed through standup and talked my writtens: all oats. On top of spitten raw flows, I’m topic sickness, Lars knows. And Frank is shit, its obv yo. He really puts the poo in the nanny. Cause what ya doin is crappy. Pussy, you and me in an alley. Who ya think ya foolin with Bruce Lee in ya avy? And I do it so proudly, I just referenced a movie. I must be Neighbor with a tech and an oozie. And an oozie and a tech, blood oozing on the set. Cause I’m usually into death, heavy crescendo while the music plays again. Music played again, links provided by Cake. Look at the music taste I’m in!!! Guys, am I gay??? Guys… am I straight??? Oh wait that’s Masaii, the guy with the fade. Let’s post pictures of our steroid backs, and compare stories of why our hair’s so wack. “BRO, do you need your groin area waxed? Cause I’ll seriously do it… here in Australia we ain’t scared yo, JACKED.” Unless it’s a retard, then I’m scared so fast. Unless you Veritas than your hair grows back! What a pessimist creature, Chyeah Guevara, “OH SNAP!! THE PRESIDENT LEAKED THIS ALIEN HOAX CRASH”. Queer, you have 4 thousand posts and like No fans…the beard you’ve worn out is gross, I might go yack. I’m a psycho-path who likes old math and writes code cracks for high school graphs. I type so planned, I’m zygote’s raps. I micro manage the mic flow stanza’s. So sick that my mic flows’ Asthma, guaranteed to get a reaction, while you hypoallergenic. So you might be out a breath if you like those raps. I’m Wise Ways’ crack, I’m Wise Ways’ weed, I’m Wise Ways’ meth and I’m Ways Ways’ speed, my mind stays bleak cause I can’t see, GUYS I SERIOUSLY DO TONS OF DRUGS, and I can’t sleep!!! And I can’t read cause I’m DG, and my face looks like a pile a feces. And while I’m spea-king, just stop it Reid, please. And all these BB’s just spawned like overnight, the aliases more confusing than Vulgar’s open mics. Vulnerable and trite, SO deep, solemn when I write, mostly. I combined the combo of my plight with the quandary of my life. Bowling, but wish I was pulling a Columbine tonight, but no way. It’s all work and no play…you know the rest: dull boy. But it’s probably my wife. There’s company coming. The holidays are nice, the hustle and bustle. There’s coffee and there’s wine, there’s truffles and muffins. We wobble through the night, we stumble and bumble. This façade we keep is tight, we cover the trouble. But we always seem to cry, we suffer and struggle. Honesty aside, I’ma get that jerk. That coffee and feelings shit was my dead man verse. But at least it’s not as random as a Zenland verse, pretending to be a meth lab perp. Where’s you head at? Burnt? Permafried wore than Wise Ways till your meds can’t work. But DexLabb’s the worst, not even gonna waste a bar on you. Just Dexlabb’s the worst. And I pen mad perfect, the syntax flawless, I’m a big fat nerd who’s impact causes a big crack in the earth when I sit down on it. Just slim down Certain, can you fix that topic? Call the grammar police cause I just bitch slapped ya’ll scripts.