You've got cancer in your liver and lung,
Get yourself to write a will.
Your heart is clogged, vision fogged,
Unpaid whores may resort to kill.
Your shit smells bad, now don't get mad,
A hero is often just a glorious zero.
Your shit my friend has hit the fan,
Your face makes an instant foe.
You know what you are, an ass,
You've done enough wrong.
I come to tell you it's over,
Also there's a tumor on your schlong.
Plus check the warts on your asshole,
I think they're bloody good.
Once they start bleeding,
They don't stop when they should.
But this joint needs a light, I have a flight,
I'll see you when you're dead.
People like you are better off gone,
Sooner out of my head.
