Pour Some Sugar on Yourself

now. i got something i don’t understand. and that’s not even cos i had too much to drink. too much motherfaaking teKILLa that’s what the faak i’m talking about. that damn thing tastes like someone caught fire and pissed it out.

okay. so. why does being friends with someone make them treat you worse than some mofo they don’t know. and by treat you worse, i mean, say your name like it’s a cuss word. like it’s baaad. like he’s the pope, and he gotta say he’s gay. why can the mofo go,

this song goes out to ying. this song also goes out to xxx. where’s xxx? there, xxx. the lovely xxx. enjoy!

motherfaaker don’t even know xxx. i know cos bitch told me he’s never seen that ugly faaker before. now… to people who think i’m jealous… come on man. hell yeah i am. and not only cos we’re friends friends and all that mmmullshit. i know it’s the job requirement. perform, be nice, wink and smile like you got seizures. 

ok. do your job. but, so. i can’t get a proper “this-song-goes-out-to-you” mmmullshit? bitch can’t say my name so i can bloody hear it?

i beg, force, push and drag all my rich friends down there mofo. well happy friday pussy magnet, i’mma NOT drag my friends who spend alot of kaching-kaching down again, so pour some sugar on yourself motherfaaker.