If a spider is just a spider, and he manages to get inside her, whose fault is it, to you? Maybe if there was cider, we could blame it for leaving her wider but there wasn't, she was a bareback rider, he, a supercollider, and now he did divide her into two!!
The oven has a kid, daddy should've worn a lid, big will be her mid, but all that is not new to you. For a few months she hid, but the belly is now on the grid, too late to get rid of God forbid, let's just hope it looks not like a squid, or it heads to the zoo.
What to do with the tasty glue? I see those two, they think it's a brew, they have no clue. His junk grew, what do you know, now they screw. Pity this crew, if it has a kid, it will be as smart as a shoe.
Get a tattoo, now that would be sweet! I mean you're only young once unless you cheat. Maybe on your backseat, or maybe on your teat. I would love you more as I glanced at your meat, written on, like a sheet. I would take a seat, think neat, want to greet, get some heat, be on my feet, lose control and skeet, fall on you like sleet, you would think, "hey it's a treat!", like a champ can't miss a beat, need no spoon but I'm gonna eat, I sit back satisfied, then I tweet.
This is how I roll, this is how it's done. I don't need no gun, I would rather have a pun. I'm a school you Hun, go on and bring me a honey bun, I'll have some fun, make you run, I'll sit here weighing a ton, best you'll ever be is a rerun. "Did she just sit on your junk and spin?" No Son, she was spun.
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