Dissection of the Ass Whooping

"Dissection of the Ass Whooping" by: Eric L. Boddie Congratulations to you for winning the election But when you campaign for this ass whooping, you hate the win section My foot strikes cerebrals of people so they turn feeble So don't be next in line for this infinite sequel Because if you didn't already know, you're about to learn You turning black and blue is my only concern And you can keep the heat as long as I've got hands and feet I'll throw them thangs on ya and trick you out your treat Then shove it up your ass until they hear you cum So you better beg the Wu-Tang for the iron lung I can see you there shaking with that nervous twitch Afraid of this ass whooping, old school calls that a b**** So what do you do, get a f****** gun And you miss your target, them kids were just having some fun How many hopes are lost, how long before the memories fade That pain scars the Soul and can't be unscaved So mentally enslaved, brothers turn against one another When we got mad, we'd whoop some ass and then discover That we could be friends the very next day That's the power of the ass whooping, these hands don't play and I've stared down the barrel once but felt no fear Because between the gun and I was God so I'm still here Now I'll walk away from a fight, but I won't back down I won't play you for a fool, but if you clown Just know I am a man who does it all to keep the Peace So be ready for the kraken if you release the beast Then you'll really need guns, guns, guns, guns and guns some more To keep you from becoming a mud stain in the floor Yall need Smith and Wesson to act super bad Well, just thinking about this s*** is about to make me mad Don't blame it on your missing dad or your whorish mom If you're that scared of the ass whooping, you should f****** run Instead you bust your guns as the number one option Not even concerned with whose breath you are stopping What if your mother crossed your line of fire At the exact moment you bullet chose flesh to desire I knew a murder victim and the murderer too Within an hour, he murdered himself, that should give you a clue About all the pressure that comes along with gun play At least with the ass whooping, everyone can walk away Maybe limp, maybe be carried with swollen eyes and missing teeth Perhaps with broken bones, but, at least, you still breathe So you can fight another day, that's if you're still looking They call me Goodest, and I approve this message for ass whoopings Stop the genocide and guns....