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cunts
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When I'm walking down the street,
It's always you I seem to meet, Long hair down and sneakers on your feet. And write your letters to the Evening News I clench my fist and sing this tune: I said Hey student, hey student, hey student, You're gonna get it through the head, I said Hey student, hey student, hey student, You're gonna get it through the head, I said... When walking to work, It's always you I seem to meet Henna in your hair, standing in the heat As you serve us in [motor bows] a book kid I clench my hand before I flip my lid. When walking down the street, It's always you I seem to meet, Long hair down and sneakers on your feet. As you listen to Pearl Jam in your room. I'm thinking like that when I sing this song: When walking down the street, It's always you I seem to meet, Long hair down and sneakers on your feet. As you stare in your room at Shaun Ryder's face Down long long long long days The dead brains of class A-D Born to live in Leigh-on-Sea Twin swastikas, court, swimming pool I'm thinking like this when I sing this tune: |
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do you know how long it took us to get rid of that fucking piece of rancid jizz? he's your problem now. i suggest you deal with it. |
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throw him in the atlantic ocean and let the fish eat his corpse which will still manage to come off like a smug condescending insufferable prick
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You mean we should throw him off the.....piers ![]() |
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