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#11 |
Battle Rap's Married Man
Join Date: May 2015
Location: Crumpetville, England
Posts: 389
Battle Record: 2-0
Champed - Gorilla Writing league
Rep Power: 3513501 ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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Have you ever thought "Fuck it," at the bar with your friends
before letting them jump in your car in the end? You start up the engine. Say put on your belts," but they argue against it like "We're drunk, what the hell!" You heard the CLUNK! and you felt you were safe on the road as it's always somebody else where dangers involved. You're taking it slow, eyes fastened and steeled while maintaining control with your hands at the wheel. Your friends are laughing for real at your running a red light "That was unreal," one says, touching your left side. You're looking for respite, someone to tell you it's fine, but nothing is said by your friends as you drive. The pedal is right down, you're gathering speed, They're getting high now. "Someone pass me the weed!" Your girls in the passenger seat. You can't wait to get home There's a flash. You don't see it until too late with the smoke. You brake but the owner of the other vehicle skids Your mouth gaping "Oh no!" when you see what you did. Their car careered and it hit a lamp post in the distance now you've no reason to live, neither have most of your victims. I hope that their spirits haunt you every day of your life since There won't be forgiveness. I can say it 'cause I lived. You take away my kids, my family? A fate to worse me than death I hope you wake up with their lingering screams and never sleep again... there you are Finished put it up against your 36 if you want as I said, I'm busy pz |
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Tags |
biting dias personals, dad stab pans back, david rappaport face rawn, moms purse bomb percs, pocketknife certified, smells like teen sadness, son u just can't cut it-dad |
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