So here it is. A P-fat rhyme called "Fat Squirrel (It's Where the Mall Is). Y'all don't like it, y'all can bike it.
Peace out.
Yo I'm taking out ya body loaf Time ta end the game and kick ya both Faster, bastard in the pretendin' lane With ya scrambled eggs up in ya brain. Gymnastics on the damn TV Ridin' horses like ya killin' me Jimmety-jammies up ya mouf-hole Bringin' the noise like ya a triggety-troll. (refrain 1) Fat Squirrel, (it's where the mall is,) Your face like glass! Fat Squirrel, (it's where the mall is,) So you can kiss my ass! Rubbin' ya face in the concrete panty wagon Scratchin' ya butt like a Chinese dancin' dragon Buyin' ya news like ya face is on fire Pretendin' the endin' ain't comin' down to the wire. Go get me that hose, cuz ya life is in my hands. Go an' dance with the man at the vegetable stand. Take out the trash and get out the damn house Cuz my fist is like a cat and ya face a friggin' mouse. (refrain 2) Fat Squirrel, (it's where the mall is,) Buy my CD! Fat Squirrel, (It's where the mall is,) Or I'll cap ya knee! I'm gonna end this song cuz I'm runnin' outta wind. But I got a few more lines til I'm gettin' to the end. Talkin' 'bout ya face only can go so friggin far And it ain't like my rhymes come out a jiggety jar. So have a heart, don't fart, don't worry 'bout my words Cuz to eat 'em in ya mouf makes ya make some weird-ass turds. And ifya in the yard and ya lookin' for the world, Take time out ya rhyme to look for the Fat Squirrel. (repeat refrains 1 and 2 until ya damn eyes fall out)
Eat ya damn vegetables. I'm out.