Eve, the submongrel, convinces Adam the mongrel,
to eat of the fruit. Now he's tethered to her brothel mentality,
flaunting cologne of cougar urine,
with pheromones that generated one neutered testicle...
while the real Romeo, resides in the outhouse,
surviving on sustenance of her stench, in her reality, camouflaged.
A dishonorably discharged soldier!!
& now she's,
casting lots for imbeciles to harlot for her.
Millstoning them into deep and murky waters,
with a flying amphibious, tri-element carnivorous,
killing machine with the likes unseen.
Don't believe Eve, who's tailor-fitted with leaves,
truth could never fly the tongue of mannequins...
'Yellow Press' pubic publisher,
with acne emotion inflamed from fabrication.
She shattered your 3rd eye, creating kaleidoscope
realities evolving from twist. Now I'm irie exhaling fiery papyri,
nothing sexier than naked truth, now twerk it.
The mouse, eats better than the plecostumus, proposterous
ish from other fish. Can't get any lower than genetics of flat bellies.
I, THINK I, MAY HAVE JUST TOLD A LIE...
There is a sub-mongrel *****
with a soul maimed from website fame,
milking a litter through Judas' umbilical~truths without pixels, infographically.
figured I'll do the site some good by murdering its
malignant mafia, probono!
Bare handed, soul-tasting through pupils,
because mistakes weigh. This is not a
killing like a common comic crook,
with a spray painted on chivalrous tutu.
Phone booths don't produce super wiggas
with rope ' round here. See, I'm one of those,
D'jango Niggaz, THAT RIDES THE NAG,
wielding a flagrant diatribe whip.