What I’ve got they’ve got one eighth
House where they’re living like one miserable sliver of my kitchen
Considerable mink slippers, gold dust sprinkled onto my kippers: different.
Way I’m living makes unpaids livid
Like I’m about to say “Let them eat cake.”
Debateable whether the speech delivered was OKt
They didn’t seem too grateful
Baying like hungry hounds behind the butcher’s, a little push
All it takes to undo creation, so let them eat cake, long live the nation.
Before any peasant pedants leave their caves demanding edits
I know that was famously a mistranslation
Didn’t maintain her head placement
Or save her from accusations of incestuous cravings
Took ages had me going crazy
Grief, speedran all stages one day
From how they’re swaying, this newest kg of K is A+, A-OK
Eighths, me-aimed eyes inside pyramid shapes
Ages of ice, close shaves everyday, daily shave
Lifestyle lavish, way she wants me has her acting slavish
Slathering over me, wants to lather me up and get boned by me
Get phoned by me
Meet with no greets to get green, no cabbages or radishes
Damaged, held together with tape and bandage, xaney powered machine
Man, this shit really ravages, still selling it for higher than average
Like a savage, small bills sandwiched between big ones, something drastic
In the planning.
Alchemisland 
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