What a loser couldn’t stay hidden in a crowd if he wanted. You don’t see me asking you to do anything. Take you’re lies back south you a the fake a** biker. B**** made acting like women. Go back to Pennsylvania with the rest of the hog fuckers. Maybe if you through you’re boy p**** back, somebody might clame you’re geriatric lying a**. Even the stupid can tell you’re a b**, bumming from you’re friends f***** paper snitch. Everything you sell you own a gram. Cheap,smelly, and always pointing a finger at someone else f*** you dog get out of my town.
