Mummy's Special Little Soldier
“Mummy’s Special Little Soldier”
You’re not special, cause your mummy told ya/
You are just a special, mama’s little soldier
I revel on a level, when I sculpt with this culture/
As I bedevil like a devil, with my pen in my holster
If you test my mettle, you’ll get more than an ulcer/
I’ve come here to embezzle, like I vulture the culture
A mental menace with a pencil, they tremble from pen/
They try assemble & disemble, & then disheavled again
I put all bets on my pen, cause my pen can never not win/
And I’m aiming at their heads, until they’re dead in a coffin
I’ve had one crossing the road, then on ten toes she was gone/
Like she must of read my flows, & sensed she wasn’t that strong
I tend to pen what I want, yet what I want they call wrong/
Like who what, you do what, da do ron-ron-ron/
It’s like the Mong that’s in Mongrel, was put there for them/
Hence it was hospital for the womble, when I cooked him with pen.
Copyright 2018 The Elusive Mr Dunne (All rights reserved)
