Left here for some reasonPerhaps your mom to be pleasin'Left here for some rhymeYour dad's ass is sublime,But what's moarYer mom's the whore.
Your poem made me chuckle, Sub. It's kinda mean and abusive--I like that!
Form is fascism.Poetry that rhymessucks.
Your dad has been buttfucked from China to DoverHis ass pokes right up when face down in the cloverWhen nailed for an hour he'll do twenty three moreBut the sad news dear lad is your mummy's a whore.
Of course now Im wondering if there's some fat guy you keep chained to a desk and force to write ALL your poetry.
It is on like Donkey Kong.Your father's ass is a popular destinationFor sex tourists with a love of degradation.For the truly depraved, there can be no other,Except for the whore that's your mother.
Your papasan's pooper's been plunged plenty goodHe whinges and whines when he's welcoming woodThe line up to lay him is lively and longBut your mom is the whore in this sweetly-rhymed song.
Your dad is the pan for my egg fu youngHe's the barrel hole for my massive bungHe's the vacuum that sucks my hardwood floorBut at the end of the day, your mom's the whore
Your dad's got a dick up his dunghole againHe's been balling the ball team since last night at tenThat's just the home team, there's still more in storeBut face facts my friend it's your mom that's the whore.
Although you felt he was acting quite crassyour pop went the day with a vibrator filled asshis squeals of delight could be heard from offshorebut it don't change the fact that your mom is the whore.
Now, my dad's hungers and thirsts are quite radical, sureIt's a vast population wear's the scent of his manureBut it seems somewhat judgemental, and also quite crassTo compare me dear mum to dad's well plundered ass
Your dad has been fucking with Tom Dick and HaroldUsing his bum's shooting fish in a barrelThe whole town and more have been through his back doorBut that's not a patch on your mom, who's a whore.
Mom's a sweetheart. She IS. Yeah, she likes a good timeBut having many admirers is really no crimeThey're merely responding to her unusual allureAs they line up from here to Christianne Amanpour...
Your dad's like a ride at the carnival fairHe bucks like a bronc with his butt in the airAnd it's free! Come everyone! Come all who'll come!But that can't be said for your whore of a mum.
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