|
|
 | |  |
| You never trim your bush; It's a mound of matted hair. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| You eat fast food every day; You come home and foul the air | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| You never blow me anymore; Why don't you slob my knob? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| Your balls smell like your ass; I'd rather blow the dog | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Knob doesn't rhyme with dog you stupid slut. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| Whine like a bitch while I kick your nuts. | |
 | |  |
|
|
|