Ya, you beat that boss. You flipped and tossed. Glossing over the lost. Mocked and took stock of the crop. Marked the cross, where he last fought. Can't stop. Won't stop. Whipped out the glock. The clock strikes what I got. With the last bullet, to be shot. You'll never see what I've brought. Just more gruel for the fool who can't pool what they thought was cool to duel from the group you didn't want to lose too. Fuck dude, need more NOS. Guess this glock, stops my clock from rocking the feeling you'll feel down to your socks. Just stop me from letting free, of the man I don't want to be.
0/500