So as I curl one out, this fateful day,
I hear the children, laughing at play,
Through the bathroom window, I hear one say
"I'll shank ya mom, bled"
And then the unmistakable rattle of the engine of a moped,
Which is probably insured in his father's name.
I grow tired of the noise, I've had enough of this shit,
I'm not impressed, not one little bit
So I acquire a gun
And then have my fun
I laugh as I imagine them fail to get into heaven
As I spray red hot death unto them with an AK47.
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