testimonial
by jeremy cannon
Remove that smile, from your face,
it doesn't make you pretty, you are a disgrace.
This family is high class, and you definitely are not,
the boys are lying to you when they say you're hot.
Walk in my abode, and talk to me like that,
as worthless as you are, you might as well be fat.
I hate you, brat, you called me a liar,
All of that hair spray and make-up, you'd be great fuel for a fire.
You are gross, a nasty piece of white trash,
The boys screwing you for a nickel would be too much cash.
If you were kidnapped by pirates, I'd chuckle a thousand days,
and if they treated you harshly, like rotten, vile slaves.
If they raped your insides, outsides and soul, too,
I'm afraid I'd fly above, just to laugh at you.
And after they were finished with your foul, dirty mouth,
I'd get my jollies on seeing you walk naked and out.
They stab you in the butt, as you trot along the plank,
you get what you deserve, you slutty little skank.
Oh, god, why, did you curse me with such a daughter?
I was so disgusted, the first day I caught her.
In my own cabin, she was sucking dick for a bag of weed,
while she was getting it in the ass, just to feel it bleed.
Your hair is so stringy, from all the ejaculations,
you average five guys a day, a couple are our relations.
But you say that you'll never screw the same guy twice,
but if you slept with women, that'd be kind of nice.
Then daddy could have fun, too, but no, you're selfish,
The reputation you've given us, is astonishingly hellish.
I remember the day four policemen knocked our door down,
they screamed "We're looking for the hooker, the biggest one in town."
I cried when you were handcuffed, but only because of me,
I wished they'd never bring you back, they did, unfortunately.
Because you jacked them off, slept with them, yes, all four,
but they gave me a court date for aiding and bedding a whore.
So the judge asked me, "Mr. Lebmug, how do you plead?"
I claimed innocent of course, I'd love to see a stampede,
of cows and bears and horses, stomping her in the ground,
and I'd still get my jollies, of that rumbling sound.
Knowing that the tramp is dead, gone and deceased,
and call up on the vultures, and proudly watch them feast.
So as I end this diary of truth,
never have a little one, I am now scared of the youth.
Daddy's little girl is the nastiest hoe on earth,
just like the woman that gave this girl birth.
But I don't care, why should I, really?
I have other children, so pondering on her is silly.
So boys, if you want to get a cheap lay,
black, smelly, Chinese, ugly, my daughter will have sex with you anyway.
Now that I think of it, it's really not that bad,
I remember a week ago, my daughter said, "Dad,
if me and you ever screwed, would you tell anybody?"
So after I stuck her, I told her not to tell mommy.
She didn't want to be with me, she was too busy with everyone else,
but I'll still get off thinking of her, dead without a pulse.
