I'm the ghost of that dog,
yeah, me, you musta seen me
inna battle, a dustup Supremo
a contest of skill and noble bravado
It went down like this and I modestly say
I was seekin immorality that dark grungy day
an I was swaggerin round town like the gangsta I be
when I spied me a horse kinda curiosity
who looked nice and tender, all offered for me
a feast for da eyes and a treat for da teeth
and so I did wait till the challenge was met
and flew with my jaws like a toothed lunatic
and lost my grip to tease the hapless brute
and saw his eyes, who knew the truth
that I would win, in leisurely dispatch
and swagger away without even no rash
when next I knew, in his teeth was me
and flung like moldy old laundry
and then that brute on my ribs went a-joggin
and put many more dents in my big fearsome noggin
and swirled me round inna slithery puddles
his brain it weren't right, his thinking was muddled
cause where was the blood, the gore, and defeat
where was the pile of hair and torn meat?
i have pride in my work, I think it appalling
that a horsey-type thing on my body keeps falling
the creature played dirty, I'll teach it a lesson
finish what them start, then goes for my blessin'
it all a flesh wound, it barely a test
lemme up coward, I'll grip shut your last breath
but now the light's murky, the pavement seems soft
they will holler my praises, they'll send them aloft
they'll come to my shrine, a nice shiny hollow
where a hopeless horse-thing did steal my tomorrow
and left a fine dog-print in the bloody wet brick
a warning sign to lesser dogs
to best not lunge to bite so quick.
Sadfalada
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