Quote:
Originally Posted by Sharp
fun drinking game is to do a shot every time a Swerve punchline has ‘...’ in the middle
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Dave’s bitch-made, I can’t face this man and have any fear,
Cause I may have 3 periods between each punch…but he has 12 in a year.
This tournament’s foreshadowing your depression, there’s no fighting it guy,
It’s vehicular suicide…first bleak and blue, now swerve and you die.
I’m a surgeon with gats, every bullets the cure,
When I shoot, Dave Mustaine the stage like a Megadeath tour.
You’re going to beat me? That kind of thinking is toxic,
Quite frankly that’s a bridge too far…and this is me pushing you off it.
Now you’ve been around the block, player you’ll get tossed,
You may not be wet behind the ears…but I’ll mail them to your family in a box.
You were the second choice - you being good is plenty talk,
Cause voters were hoping for a Blue chip and they got a penny stock.
Here’s another L for the UK, punches have you smashed with a pen,
These shots’ll ring off your frame until England wants to lynch Rashford again.
Put the heater between your lips, won’t hear this mans shout,
Call it dental hygiene…what comes out of this scope’ll rinse your mouth out.
First Zuch now Dave, these UPN fags cannot mess with me,
When I stay taking down more prowlers than the sex offender registry.
Swerve throws hooks and jabs, beating on this stereotype,
Dave’ll go down like a sack of potatoes…and his limey family will eat every bite.