Papa singh and beta singh
Are two dacoits bold
One puts a hole in you
The other just does as told
They are humble though
They don't brag about their kill
Thinking I was easy for them
Demanded a two dollar bill
They knew I had gone to America
Thought I had a few cents and two
Wanted to get rich quick
But hadn't a clear clue
They couldn't have known my friends
Merciless mercenaries and foes
I had become a sad spook
I wasn't yet dead, but close
The dacoits couldn't have known
I didn't have a penny on me
Mad as the fiercest banshee
A heap of fuming neural debris
Papa dacoit pierced my heart
The son was quite quick too
He fiercely tried to cut my head
But I cut his face right through
I poisoned their heads with pain
It's my poem after all
They weren't getting away with it
They died and that wasn't all
I saw Papa's head swelled large
I threw them in the drain
I breathed fire and burnt them crisp
I took a lot of strain
I deleted their names from history books
I went back in time
If you wrong me, remember
You will pay for your crime
All the gods will conspire against you
Your horoscopes misfire
All you signs and portends will go vain
Your future deadly dire
I can't begin to narrate the hell
The horrors that await
Several lives you'll spend in my ass
My farts your only fate
