Hey T-family. It may be the mixture of 4 T2 caps total today plus the post-workout euphoria from my first hardcore workout since my “asscapade”, and factored in with my severe boredom at work tonight. I’ve composed a poem about my (and hopefully your) love for our favorite metal: Iron. Without further moronics, here’s my latest workout of art:
"Belly Up"
Oh please say you'll hurt me
cause I'd like a little pain,
my friends do it with alcohol
but they all try in vain,
I want a new drug, putting cuts in my skin
keeps getting harder from where I begin,
halfway through and I cannot forget
chicks get me off but you make me wet,
the impact is hard now no way to ignore
I've never been higher with my feet on the floor,
punish with extreme predjudice for I am but skin
fortified with iron when you let me in,
strict structure the method, used well you'll go far
while the fuckers are out drinking put your hands on the bar.
"MB Eric: With the above proving that he has completely F'n lost it since 2001."
Yo M-Boy that was f’n cool, nice job. I’m completely with you on “my friends do it with alcohol but they all try in vain” and “while the fuckers are out drinking put your hands on the bar.” That’s one of the things that really motivates me, while so many people are boozing their lives away at the bar/club, I’m doing something productive. I love it brotha!