When you bend over me in geography,
your flabs are there for everyone to see
your smelly belly button penetrates me and I can see your bald spot.
Your belly is the shape of a pot,
I want to shoot you with a Glock.
I bet your blood is going to clot you were in love with that rock you obese little gob
your hair is all chopped can't fit through your cabin door because your belly is big and sore,
you're swollen fupa hits me in the fod this much fat makes me shocked
you'd sink a yacht
I'd have to fire multiple shots!
oh mr kitchen you make me sob
I bet you have a cheesy nob and I don't want backshots..
