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McGregor

McGregor

Fear smells strong
I can sense it from a mile away
You pussy ass punk
I’ll have your head inside a microwave
You can’t do shit
Except prepare for when you die today
I’m coming for your blood
Now’s your chance to find a hideaway

Don’t think you can save yourself
Im built to handle danger well
So even if you were a threat
I’d have your head and take your belt

I haven’t even had to warm up for it, I’ve been chilling out
So get your shillings out, you’re paying for it, should’ve shut your silly mouth
And when I’m finished with your corpse, I’m in the Porsche and peeling out
You standing even half a chance is something that I really doubt

Bow down to me, I’m your king you fucking peasant
I hope you’ve lived an honest life so tonight you go to heaven
Oh but wait, you think you can take me, not if i’s eleven mate
It’s a coming home party for you down in hell, go celebrate

I don’t float or sting like anything, I levitate and decimate
You better take precautions cause I’m heavyweight, you featherweight
I pack a punch, you run away
You packed a lunch, I already ate
And for dessert I’m taking off your head to put it on my plate
Written by Benzy_420 (BTheW)
Published
Author's Note
Inspired by Conor McGregor’s trash talking.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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