Dear Lord,
May he drown in his own hair gel.
May he choke on sushi roll.
May Ed Hardy come and beat him.
May Van Dyke come steal his soul.
His taste in music's lacking.
His timing's fucking lol.
The megamix is pumping,
Douchebag rapping at my door.
If I wasn't in pajamas,
If I wasn't this damn cold,
His face I'd surely remix.
His pants would sure be soiled.
If I catch him in the hallway
If I see him by the pool.
Lord help me beat his fucking head in.
Cause Lord he's a fucking tool.
Amen.
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