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Quaoar
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Tough Guy
A tattooed, gauged jumble of bone, hair and skin;
a lower-class Rambo, so stupid and mean,
He barks at me like a god-like big man.
He claims that he knows more high-born lads like me.
He says I ain't humble, and he laughs at me and my unreal life.
My insulting bling life.
And in between all this shit he shares he makes clear to me
that in another time my friend and I'd be already stabbed.
That now he's changed his ways, but by the way he says it,
I know he's far too lout to be even proud.
Though time, it keeps tickin', your ways seem still stuck in the dawn of time.
Tough guy, you're getting dumber.
Hey thug, you're full of lessons in life.
Big man, I'm getting yawny.
I hope that you had a good time,
but for the evenings to come: don't talk to me that way.
But mate, I'm afraid that you got something wrong
You see, I look back at the roots where I come from and all that I see, lad, are children of war.
And now look at you, dickhead.
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You and your kind are just the trash that starts the wars in here.
All for the sake of your nuts and your cocks.
In here I only see one Man.
Oh! they should tighten your leash, bro.
I'm afraid you don't take the judgements as good as me.
A humble background is not a carte blanche to be a complete scumbag.
Tough guy, you're getting dumber.
Hey Chuck, you're full of lessons in life.
Hitman, I'm getting yawny.
I hope that you had a good time.
You raised the bar up so high!
Tough guy, you're getting dumber.
Hey thug, What a good chat we had!
Big man, I'm getting yawny.
I hope that you had a good time,
but for the evenings to come: stop this shit. Turn away. Leave me be.
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