pop that fucking booty
like the whole world say you s’posed to.
set it on my d**k
because I know you fucking want to.
move it up and down
till it starts going to my head
that every bad bitch looking
wants to get her pu**y fed
by white sin,
this kid,
the motherfucking kingpin.
girl is getting tougher on my shit,
i’m breaking her in,
till the walls cave in,
till her house falls down.
till we’re lying in the rubble,
bodies naked on the ground.
she died happy.
“what’s that?”
she weren’t scared,
mark my motherfucking words,”
she died happy.”
“that so?”
everyone can see it,
sitting pretty, grinning blood-soaked.

but now
i feel
hatred
spouting
from the
dumb fuck
who’s been
staring
at you
for an
artless amount
of time,
his patience
is running dry.
he puts
on his
depraved
disguise,
snide but
bold,
riches
are implied.
the second self
of my
cowardice.
the liberator
of a little bitch.
my criminal
phantom limb
dismounts
a majestic
dolphin
and inquires
with intention,”
where are
your false
expectations?”
i cast
a look
at a
divine being,
she makes
a living
babysitting
and always bastardizing
the retarded
flame
undying.
he sets
in motion
a strike.
hawklike,
charming,
business
ignites.
she might
be toppling
fast.
the front
has now
been surpassed.

“well, i don’t know
if i can hang out after the show,”
and she starts strolling away
so he starts annunciating
his prowess and reputation,
both kind of nonexistent.
he’s never been in the spotlight,
maybe just once or twice,
small but inspired crowds.

“oooh-la-la,
did you say you opened for
atlas sound?”
“oh yeah, i believe i did,”
i talk good
and am erect on
solid ground
‘cos tonight
is proving to be fearless
and the
other way around.
i’m upsetting
the hang-ups
with fetching, hunky
animal sounds.

bwa-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, ha...

("pop that booty" refrain)