Your presence is a bore, to you it’s a chore, haven’t we met someplace before? Hey there Mr. Hardguy, male replica, always flexing your muscles as you try to look nonchalant about it when you’re wearing your tank top in front of the young ladies, your hardguy babies, yeah, you’re so hard, pounding your brewskies pretending to lose count, not to be accountable for your actions, not even a small fraction, because you’re drunk and you’ve got baggage, so where you going on vacation? It seems you always have a hard destination, yeah, I know all about you, you’re so hard, the way you size up a new body when it enters the crowd, comparing it to your hard exterior, weak interior, you don’t care though because you live a hard life with your self- indulgent strife, you’re so hard, grabbing your c**k every two seconds when you indulge in conversation, it’s your hardguy occupation, to check if your mind is still there, through your hardguy after school wear, you spend hours in front of the mirror perfecting your hard stare, so everyone better beware, as you declare, your throne, who the f**k do you think you own? We own you, because you have a silent fear of being rejected, accepted, corrected, reflected, inspected, you always compete, carrying yourself like you’re part of the elite, yet you dive into a conversation with cold feet, trying to find a way to drive from the back seat, yeah, so why don’t you tell us all another sob story, that drove you to your hardguy glory, please??? Oh how I love to hear the first and only one deviated for the millionth time, it’s such a hard crime, when you try to steal soft words of encouragement… but they feel so bad…the sympathetic lips that are wrapped around your d**k, it’s ok though because you’re hard, you don’t take no s**t, you just feed it through the empty brain of an intimidated c**t, I know your game, I know your name, you’re hard, it’s ok though because you were dealt those cards, to discard a brain, you take your game, in vain, when you introduce yourself with your same old name, you should just change, it to hard, tattoo it on your face, so when you go someplace, everyone will know not to f**k with you because you’re hard man, they’d be a fool to stare you down, because you’ll drop them to the ground, and give your boys a pound, TKO 10 seconds in the first round…because you’re hard, Mr. Tanktop Superstar, driving in your car, I hear your hard music from afar, bob your head thrust your hips, as you clench your fists, you’ll earn your keep, just don’t f**k with me, and my half slit wrists, Ohhhhhh but you’re such a pessimist, clouded, surrounded, with your hard life’s fog and mist, I’ll rain on your parade of pessimistic nature, so here’s a wager, I’ll help pull you out of your hardguy crater, I’ll gauge out your eyes with my fingers then eat them with a bag, of potato chips and a tab, s**t them out lay you down to bed, then put them back in your head, to give you a genuine sh**ty outlook on life, make you regret that you’re a hard product of your hard father’s wife, come my way and you’ll lose if you try to defuse, I wasn’t a liar, when I told you I’d explode if you cut the wrong wire, I’ll light up my rage and set your world on fire, force you to retire, your hardness will expire, I can safely say, You’re fired!! Because I’m your supervisor, I’m the one who does the paying…attention.