dag homie

You’re a piece of trash that I hope gets run over by a bus and then set on fire.

Dag homie, you’re like a used sock in a landfill.

You’re the reason why my mom left me with my uncle.

You’re so stupid I think your brain is made out of glue.

Dag homie, you can’t even tell the difference between a sandwich and a brick.

You’re like a dog that can’t find its own bowl.

You’re the kind of person that makes me want to scream in the middle of a quiet library.

Dag homie, you’re louder than a construction site at noon.

You’re like a kid who just got a whoopee cushion and won’t stop using it.

You’re the reason why I don’t trust people who wear hats inside.

Dag homie, you’re like a ghost that won’t stop haunting my math class.

You’re the kind of person who thinks Friday is the end of the week and not the beginning of the weekend.

You’re like a broken toaster that still won’t stop burning my toast.

Dag homie, you’re the reason why my lunch is always a disaster.

You’re like a kid who thinks pizza is a breakfast food and not a snack.

You’re the kind of person who makes me want to take a nap in the middle of a math test.

Dag homie, you’re like a mosquito that won’t stop buzzing in my ear.

You’re like a lost sock that just won’t find its way home.