I don't need 16 lines

Fourscore and four wars ago

I forswore this fourth whore is no

Victim of mine, In come the rhymes

that he's the symptom of mind's

Void, 'stroyed sent up in time,

but how you going to play doctor Benched, dumb and blind.

Acting like he's the son of God, Bitch fuck your whine

Come dawn of battles thedonofwar on's the floor pawned and fragile

Promoting honor or brawn before his thong is straddled

Strong to add up attitude and words that belong to adults

But assholes like me don't take babble shit, I bat bulls

Into home runs, while you run home shook and rattled

Took your rattle, bib, book and paddle so you have to improvise

Your false persona while i'm on ya Baby's C "BBC" like the English Channel