yo mate,

that dope rhyme flows,

like a stiff winter breeze,

coming in my window!

cool, like the Potato, Joe,

Biden,

ride'n,

on his bike'n,

he sees a young girl,

and he just must know,

if she smells real good,

like this dirty little ho,

that he used to know,

back home,

he sure hopes so!

only one way to know,

fo' sho'w,

better stop,

for a photo-op,

and get a quick sniff, yo!

whoa,

what the fuck?

my foots stuck.

damn the bad luck,

some days i just suck!

and by some days,

i mean every day,

is a waste of my life,

like my poor wife,

the strife,

i put her thru,

i can't even raise my kids right!

Like my son Hunter,

yeah he's a crack-head, so?

Let he who's without sin,

cast the first stone!

He's still the smartest man,

that i will ever know!

doin' no' sho'w gigs,

for some pretty good dough, yo!

bankin' millions of dollars,

minus ten percent for the big guy,

ha! thats me!

see?

and he invests,

the rest,

very wisely,

in hookers n' blow,

and big child support,

payments to a stripper, on a pole,

And my other son Beau,

Yeah he's dead and gone now.

But Hunter stepped right up,

To fill that gap,

In Beau's widows lap,

and her heart,

and hey what the fuck,

as long as he's here,

he may as well try his luck,

with his own niece,

she's a nice piece,

of tail,

not a whale,

like my wife, Jill,

Biden,

yeah she knew,

it was her own grand daughter,

and she's a mandatory reporter, too,

but she swept it under the rug,

like it was no big deal,

and just told Hunter, that he can't be alone,

with Ashley anymore,

but they can still sext on the phone,

while he rubs his bone,

as he smokes a bowl,

full of crack,

i know, its whack,

WTF Hunter?

You Ain't Black!

if you don't vote for me,

from the racial jungle,

in every Democrat city!