deepundergroundpoetry.com
C.U.N.T.S (Contaminated, Underhanded Nazi Tedious Scum Inc.)
There are liars, fuckin liars and cuntish liars
They lie like fuck to fuel all those fires
They have no balls they have no dick
They hide the fact they're really just fuckin sick
They smile and pout they rarely shout
In case we discover what they're really about
They all are sad bastards and total fuck ups
Surrounded by blow job sycophantic suck ups
They don't get the reputation that they earn
They're to fuckin stupid to ever learn
Once you're a cunt, you're forever a cunt
You're a sick asshole, always on the hunt
You find victims with ease ones you can tease
You say what you like you do as you please
You're just like a dick performing on crack
It's morals and scruples you purposely lack
Devolving up secrets, fake stories to tell
If there's a heaven to got to you're going straight to hell
It gives me a measure, a measure of pleasure
To watch you be tortured and break under pressure
To ensure that you feel as your victim all feel
Breaking you your spirit, forcing your kneel
There's no death for you, your pain never ends
Everyone hates you now no one defends
Now people are hoping and praying you die
Your suicide in the bunker is hopefully nigh
Inspired by 'my struggle' a modern jazz interpretation of Mein Kampf
They lie like fuck to fuel all those fires
They have no balls they have no dick
They hide the fact they're really just fuckin sick
They smile and pout they rarely shout
In case we discover what they're really about
They all are sad bastards and total fuck ups
Surrounded by blow job sycophantic suck ups
They don't get the reputation that they earn
They're to fuckin stupid to ever learn
Once you're a cunt, you're forever a cunt
You're a sick asshole, always on the hunt
You find victims with ease ones you can tease
You say what you like you do as you please
You're just like a dick performing on crack
It's morals and scruples you purposely lack
Devolving up secrets, fake stories to tell
If there's a heaven to got to you're going straight to hell
It gives me a measure, a measure of pleasure
To watch you be tortured and break under pressure
To ensure that you feel as your victim all feel
Breaking you your spirit, forcing your kneel
There's no death for you, your pain never ends
Everyone hates you now no one defends
Now people are hoping and praying you die
Your suicide in the bunker is hopefully nigh
Inspired by 'my struggle' a modern jazz interpretation of Mein Kampf
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