Yapping, yapping, yapping,
Clapping, clapping, clapping,
Capping, Capping, Capping,
Why won’t you shut the fudge up,
Like damn,
Your mouth is just running,
Like it’s on auto pilot,
Like god damn,
Shit,
Why are you always talking?
I walk away,
You follow,
I close the door,
You open it,
I put on headphones,
You start to talk in sign languages,
I feel like there is no escaping,
I think to myself,
What the fudge did I do?
Do I deserve this pain,
That’s coming from you,
Unless,
There is something more severe,
I am losing my damn mind,
Things are getting weird,
For all I want to do,
Is plot,
How to get you to shut the fudge up,
And maybe,
Just maybe,
I can hear my own thoughts,
And stop blocking my own blessings,
From someone using up,
Or have used up all their time,
On the clock,
I am fitting to clock out,
And three hundred this clown,
In chest or in the face,
With a roundhouse…