Beat it.
Beat it till it feels right.
Beat it and squeeze it real tight.
Beat it till da creams cum out.
No worries it ain't gonna shout.
It ain't gone put up no fight.
Starts with "P" ends with "s."
That's right, Peanuts and Peanut Butter.
Dedicated to Peanut Butter.
Thrown into the cold depths of jars without their shells.
A living hell, waiting to be eaten.
Waiting to be enjoyed, waiting to leave their glass and be smeared on lips.
But no they sit, nothing but jars of cream dreaming in a cold room.
Slight pounding at a rhythm is heard, creaking, along with light steps.
What is that? It seems that they've got a guest.
Such a strange guest...
Guest and store owner talking bout tests, "Are you sure he wasn't positive Sir?"
"Yeah he passed the test."
All they hear is crazy talk, watching hard, even listening to the odd noise.
"How do I even get this into me?" The lady said pointing at the jars.
" Intrauterine insemination." The owner strongly implied.
Stressed from confusion. But at end, it ends. Days later.
I can't finish this off, but to wrap this up the Peanut Butter is nothing but a jar of sperm, in a sperm bank, that overheard his master referring to him as "Peanut Butter" and has since then mistaken himself for peanut butter..
The end.
Beat it till it feels right.
Beat it and squeeze it real tight.
Beat it till da creams cum out.
No worries it ain't gonna shout.
It ain't gone put up no fight.
Starts with "P" ends with "s."
That's right, Peanuts and Peanut Butter.
Dedicated to Peanut Butter.
Thrown into the cold depths of jars without their shells.
A living hell, waiting to be eaten.
Waiting to be enjoyed, waiting to leave their glass and be smeared on lips.
But no they sit, nothing but jars of cream dreaming in a cold room.
Slight pounding at a rhythm is heard, creaking, along with light steps.
What is that? It seems that they've got a guest.
Such a strange guest...
Guest and store owner talking bout tests, "Are you sure he wasn't positive Sir?"
"Yeah he passed the test."
All they hear is crazy talk, watching hard, even listening to the odd noise.
"How do I even get this into me?" The lady said pointing at the jars.
" Intrauterine insemination." The owner strongly implied.
Stressed from confusion. But at end, it ends. Days later.
I can't finish this off, but to wrap this up the Peanut Butter is nothing but a jar of sperm, in a sperm bank, that overheard his master referring to him as "Peanut Butter" and has since then mistaken himself for peanut butter..
The end.