Bitch You Thought

They tell me I'm the mud,

My foul mouth loves that.

To make it tastier,

I lower it to their standard.

Just to match the level of competency of fucktards.

Unless they're named Google,

POOF, I lost interest.

Don't worry I have a halo,

The horns just hold it.

I'd also go to hell,

But I choose not to see you.

However, if I wanted to kill myself,

I'd climb your ego and jump to your IQ.

Since you're the reason directions exists,

I have neither the time,

Nor crayons to explain this to you.

Buh-bye.