[Verse]

Stormitive

‘Normous kick

Poke the flames

Warn the kids

Hold the game

Scorn the whip

Hoard the gang

Bore the chicks

Lord of fangs

Type B, liked

He’d see, bite

Chords of strange

Bright sweet sights

Scored an A

He’d of course delay

With the chorus face

In the new bay

With the shoes, amaze

Slice of pineapple

In his juice, faced

With the new case

In the red face

With the orange lace

In the skin flakes

On the new phone

With the pics, great

In some lit skates

In a kickin’ state

Older folks state

It has been great

Mr. Quick Scope

Bit some Swiss paste

In the bush flakes

With the cupcake

Soap on the hammock

Shaped dish-plate

Wishes wished, mate

Fish have been waked

Hitting some hit skates

Spitting the wrist shakes

Lifting the mixed haste

Fitting some sick drapes

Quitting, um, ox nay

Bitting some pit grapes

Over the first page

Done ‘gun my first days

Sung un my first plays

These ain’t the worst days

Only the first days

Son I ain’t thirstay

Nothing can hurt may

Or hurt me

And that’s a capital F-I-R-S-T space P-A-G-E complete

Yeet