See, bitch!
That's what you get!
You
pull a knife on
me?
A
knife?
What
is this,
the
eighteenth century?
Do
you see me wearing a fucking bowler
hat?
Kick
him like he's got all the
bananas.
You
brought a knife to a gorilla fight, bitch.
Where
you going?
Bobo,
bring his goofy ass back here.
That's
right,
BMW
makes that jet-pack engine.
You
think you're faster than a beamer, boy?
Cause
you ain't.
Remember
this next time you mug someone, bitch.
The
Supreme Court guarantees the
right to bear gorillas with jet packs.
Fuck the
gorilla hating lefties.
You
remember that picture of George Washington crossing the Delaware,
bitch?
All
those marmosets with pen-knifes ready to defend your freedom.
Men
died for my right to have a hovering, angry primate for
defense.
He's
had enough Bobo.
Let's
go.
What?
A
gun?
Bobo,
that's retarded.
(Note: Don't ask what I mean with this poem. I'm not really sure, monkeys with jet packs are just funny.)
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