- Sun Sep 28, 2008 10:17 pm
#15568
Warning: The content below contains mature content, if your under the age of 13 years of age please press the backspace button once.
Warning: This post contain spoilers, it is suggested you stay away unless you have completed the storyline of Driver: Parallel Lines.
I've decideded to rhyme about TK's life within New York, shortly after his release from Sing-Sing.
I think it's pretty awsome, yabbering on about revenge and his true-love Maria. Time for me to rhyme-on.
His a driver, depriver lookin for somethin big.
The Kid, outbid for a skid.
Forbid, in a pickle.
No bicycle, not even a nickle.
Deprived kid, trippin in prison.
Years pass by, adhearing the rules.
Think it's cool, you fool, follow the rule.
Get out, revenge, avenge assholes, loopholes whoes trippin over potholes.
f***ing mexican,
I ain't gonna rest till I find his address.
Consider him dead, but he fled.
On a train, again.
From an arcade, underpaid and affraid ove The Kid lookin at what he did.
He hid, outdid em.
Whos' next.
That f**ker going down.
downtown, with a f***ing gun, sayin his slogan "ya gonna die now".
He did some thinkin, drinkin wit ray.
Thinkin ove a way, to kill Candy.
Bethinkin rays plan to find a girl.
A hurlin girl named Maria.
Kids' hired, admired by a fantastic hot chick.
Flirtin and slurping his white ass across to the Funky Rabbit.
Cohabit with Maria, take that back. Maybe later, in the backseat of a Mustang.
Bangin his way over to meet slink, whose unable to blink, cause his flirtin with a chick in pink.
Makin a porno film, born for sex.
Not anymore, TK's gonna f**k his ass up.
Unless he can coof-up some cookies.
Bad luck, Boom! time for doom in the room full of fume.
Resume, tripple-boom.
Wherez Candy, to late now.
Phone ringin,
Call from Bishop, barbershop livin on a benchtop with a lollypop in da workshop.
Cost him lots, tossed near his tank.
Wishin he were tanked, drank and blank on wine.
Frankly his askin for it.
TK takin him on, whoes the winner.
Dam! Tank.
He Should-ave spent more time spankin.
Rather than shankin the bank.
TKs' fucked,
wait a minute, spinit, it's a f***ing rocker-launcher.
What a stauncher, skillful, wilful.
Lets blow his f***ing threads, tires no tracks.
His dead, fed. Should have fled.
Time for candy, super-dandy.
Wherez that cookie rubber-tub, dinky old chunky cork.
Fat ass Candy, eatin too much candy, handy. Easier to kill, walkin up a anthill.
Why cannot TK chill, maybe his got to much skill.
Full off revenge, relaxin, thinkin of Maria.
Candy tryin, kill his love.
drugie druggin up kid, flying, highin. Bye Bye.
Kids gun, organ, blowin up f**ker tryin to drug em.
Save girl, kill Candy, half drugged, chugged, hug ms. laddybug 80s hippy, chippy, zippy.
Wake-up Kid, concentrate, kill Candy save your girl. True love, ladylove above the doves.
Seriously, catch-up kill that fat slob.
Who could mop the f***ing bench-cloth.
Bang, fucked him up. Time to rest, addressed to Marias headrest.
wakes up, home on the thrown.
Gotta get some air, wanna be a millionaire.
Get some money, do something unfunny. Piss off Corrigan.
Go home, roam.
WTF, Corrigan where's ray.
He ain't no f***ing angel,
Illegal Bang, time for rayz x-ray.
He sold TK out, killed Marias father, wat a downer.
Time for revenge. avenged death, last breath for Corrigan.
But he fled, dreaded coward overpowered with ambition, admission into polliticion.
With the force, but he has divorce, deforced from the enforced.
Forced by Kid, wit a gun.
It's maria's turn, to f**k him up.
Make him suffer, a little ruffer.
Warning: This post contain spoilers, it is suggested you stay away unless you have completed the storyline of Driver: Parallel Lines.
I've decideded to rhyme about TK's life within New York, shortly after his release from Sing-Sing.
I think it's pretty awsome, yabbering on about revenge and his true-love Maria. Time for me to rhyme-on.
His a driver, depriver lookin for somethin big.
The Kid, outbid for a skid.
Forbid, in a pickle.
No bicycle, not even a nickle.
Deprived kid, trippin in prison.
Years pass by, adhearing the rules.
Think it's cool, you fool, follow the rule.
Get out, revenge, avenge assholes, loopholes whoes trippin over potholes.
f***ing mexican,
I ain't gonna rest till I find his address.
Consider him dead, but he fled.
On a train, again.
From an arcade, underpaid and affraid ove The Kid lookin at what he did.
He hid, outdid em.
Whos' next.
That f**ker going down.
downtown, with a f***ing gun, sayin his slogan "ya gonna die now".
He did some thinkin, drinkin wit ray.
Thinkin ove a way, to kill Candy.
Bethinkin rays plan to find a girl.
A hurlin girl named Maria.
Kids' hired, admired by a fantastic hot chick.
Flirtin and slurping his white ass across to the Funky Rabbit.
Cohabit with Maria, take that back. Maybe later, in the backseat of a Mustang.
Bangin his way over to meet slink, whose unable to blink, cause his flirtin with a chick in pink.
Makin a porno film, born for sex.
Not anymore, TK's gonna f**k his ass up.
Unless he can coof-up some cookies.
Bad luck, Boom! time for doom in the room full of fume.
Resume, tripple-boom.
Wherez Candy, to late now.
Phone ringin,
Call from Bishop, barbershop livin on a benchtop with a lollypop in da workshop.
Cost him lots, tossed near his tank.
Wishin he were tanked, drank and blank on wine.
Frankly his askin for it.
TK takin him on, whoes the winner.
Dam! Tank.
He Should-ave spent more time spankin.
Rather than shankin the bank.
TKs' fucked,
wait a minute, spinit, it's a f***ing rocker-launcher.
What a stauncher, skillful, wilful.
Lets blow his f***ing threads, tires no tracks.
His dead, fed. Should have fled.
Time for candy, super-dandy.
Wherez that cookie rubber-tub, dinky old chunky cork.
Fat ass Candy, eatin too much candy, handy. Easier to kill, walkin up a anthill.
Why cannot TK chill, maybe his got to much skill.
Full off revenge, relaxin, thinkin of Maria.
Candy tryin, kill his love.
drugie druggin up kid, flying, highin. Bye Bye.
Kids gun, organ, blowin up f**ker tryin to drug em.
Save girl, kill Candy, half drugged, chugged, hug ms. laddybug 80s hippy, chippy, zippy.
Wake-up Kid, concentrate, kill Candy save your girl. True love, ladylove above the doves.
Seriously, catch-up kill that fat slob.
Who could mop the f***ing bench-cloth.
Bang, fucked him up. Time to rest, addressed to Marias headrest.
wakes up, home on the thrown.
Gotta get some air, wanna be a millionaire.
Get some money, do something unfunny. Piss off Corrigan.
Go home, roam.
WTF, Corrigan where's ray.
He ain't no f***ing angel,
Illegal Bang, time for rayz x-ray.
He sold TK out, killed Marias father, wat a downer.
Time for revenge. avenged death, last breath for Corrigan.
But he fled, dreaded coward overpowered with ambition, admission into polliticion.
With the force, but he has divorce, deforced from the enforced.
Forced by Kid, wit a gun.
It's maria's turn, to f**k him up.
Make him suffer, a little ruffer.
.
.
(who knows). 
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