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Billy D. Badass


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Billy D. Badass

On a barstool in boots and faded jeans,

You can tell he's barely seventeen,

With a beer and a fake ID,

That?s Billy D. Badass that you?ve seen.

He?ll kick your ass if the odds are right,

It?s easy to tell that he?s wound too tight.

He never shows any sign of fear,

He gets his courage from the beer.

He plays football and wears a jacket,

His music is unholy racket,

He wears a belt with a big brass buckle,

Scars from his battles on his knuckles.

Every inch a big he-man,

Works out all week and keeps a tan,

What is he trying so hard to prove?

Why doesn?t he fit in any grove?

Inward rage turned outward again,

Just a sign of inner pain,

Who is not confused at seventeen,

Especially if he is a queen?

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