We've got you in this f**in' movie to exterminate all the lunitics all at
Once with a filetering system of God. We're the psyco-semantic police
You can't even see us. How in the f** can you do anything about it?
We're pure intellegence, your not. Your biological product of a
Comological universe. Your molecular matter, I constructed you, f** you
I made you up, you didn't make me up, you got it backwards. You know who
You are? Your f**in' semantic blockage, that's what made you up. You're
A f**in' programer named Christine Gontara. You f**ed up. She s**ed
My co*k, fell in love, and she was locked in. She's gonna get her second
Chance to s** my co*k again. If she turns me down, she's gonna go
Striaght to hell, she won't pa** go, she'll never f**in' win. She's the
c*nt that thought she was God, but that's OK, I don't give a sh**. As
Long as she s**s me off when I tell her. 'Cause she's my zombie. I
Capured that mother f**er, and she's my ca**ette. I want that co*k
s**er to send me at least fifty-thousand f**in' dollars. If she can't
Do it I'll try ten. If she can't do that, I'll try five, but that's it
If you got a dowry of five thousand dollars, come out here and s** me
Off, do what I tell you from now on, then you can join me for eternal
Time