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Pooetry

Gangtsa Shit

Shizhard Wizard is right, what the hell is going on? We used to write on the daily, dropping killa fecal bombs.

Times have changed is what you might think, we more fecal than ever so bring on ya stink.

Toilets beware, we coming at you with AKs, not the machine guns… our deadly coightus sprays.

Bowl after bowl son we making that chowder, filling up on beans and we couldn’t be prouda.

When we take time to make rhymes you know it’s gonna be good, there ain’t no solid gold crappers in any old hood.

We the best at this pooetry ain’t nobody gonna stop us, as Edgar Allen Poo said, “my fecal eruptus!”

We making doodoo with fondoodoo, consistency depends on how you chewchew. The shiny whiteys have no clueclue. We smearing bowls from here to Timbuktu-tu.

So next time you think we ain’t getting any better, go check your toilet paper fool, our pens don’t get any wetter.

Pure Pooetry

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