Team: Power Rangers, they are rangers with power.
Singer/Band: Anaal Nathrakh, Angelcorpse, Baphomets Throne, Behemoth, Bestial Warlust, Black Messiah, Burzum, Cradle of Filth, Destroyer 666, Finntroll, Goatwhore, Godkiller, Graveworm, Handful of Hate, Hellhammer, Impaled Northern Moonforest, Necrophobic, Rotting Christ, Satanic Slaughter, Satanic Warmaster, Skeletonwitch, Thou Shalt Suffer, Toxic Holocaust, Wolves in the Throne Room
Music: I super hate music. But I wuv hate. Hate makes me happy, therefore music makes me super happy, even though I don't enjoy it. I'm complex, bitch. Yo.
TV Show: Dr. Phil, I vigorously rub his progressively baldening head in my dreams, with a chicken. A progressively baldening chicken. Progressively baldening because I'm plucking it, as suffering makes me happy.
Food: Nothing but cake. I don't have a digestive system so I don't have to worry about being healthy. I just go in front of a homeless person, eat the cake and laugh. Haha.
Author: J.R.R. Tolkien. I am a secret Lord of the Rings geek. I even named my black metal band Burz Nazg, meaning ''dark ring'' in Black Speech.
Movie: The Lord of the Rings trilogy, especially Two Towers. Sometimes I mute the movie, put on a black metal record on full volume and furiously masturbate while watching the slaughter.
Animal: Oliphaunts, those great big elephanty beasts from Lord of the Rings. Such power, such fury. Awsum.
Place: Bomb ass pussy. Ma ooh you got that bomb, know you got it. Ma ooh, you got some bomb ass pussy. Ma I know you got that bomb bomb pussy (Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holidae In (Who you wit?) Me and my peeps won't you bring four of your friends (What we gon' do?) Feel on each other and sip on some Hen. One thing leading to another let the party begin (Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holidae In (Who you wit?) Me and my peeps won't you bring four of your friends (What we gon' do?) Feel on each other and sip on some Hen. One thing leading to another let the party begin. Peeps call me up [phone ring] said it's a ho-tel party. Just bring the liquor there's already eight shawties I'm on my way (way) let me stop by the store. Get a 12 pack of Corona, plus an ounce of 'dro, ya know? Now I'm on Highway 2-7 need a natural graze road. I'm already blowed, hit third I'm a be be blowed some mo'. Pulled up, stop parked, rims still spinning. Valet look like he in the game and must be winning. To room 490 I'm headed, on my way up. There's three girls on the elevator like "wassup." I told em follow me they knew I had it cracking B One said "ain't you that boy that be on BET?" "Ya that's me, Ching-a-ling equipped wit much ding-a-ling." Knock on the door I'm on the scene of things. Busted in, Henny bottle to the face! Fuck it then, feel like my head a toxic waste. There's some pretty girls in herre, I heard em whispering. Talking bout "that's that dude that sing 'Right Thurr' he glistening" I ain't come to talk (talk) I ain't come to sit (sit). What I came for was to find out who I'm gon hit, aww shit. Ma showed up like "what's the hold up?" Man know what get them wraps and roll up I took a chick in the bathroom seeing what's poppin. You know what's on my mind, shirts off and panties dropping. Niggaz knocking on the door drunk, and silly. The girl said "can I be in yo video" I'm like "yeah!", "oh really?." Now she naked strip teasing, me I'm just cheesing. She gave me a reason to be a damn heathen. Handled that, told ol' G, bring tha camera. Then I thought about, no footage while I ram her. Walked out the bathroom smiling, cats still whiling. Sharing the next room wit some girls lookin like they from an island. Stop, drop, KABOOM!, baby rub on ya nipples. Some call me Ludacris, some call me Mr. Wiggles. Far from little, make ya mammary glands giggle. Got 'em under control, the bowl of tender biddles Doc-tor giggles, I can't stop until it tickles. Just play a little "D" and I'll make ya mouth dribble Bits and Kibbles, got 'em all after the pickle I swing it like a bat, but these balls are not whiffle. Hit 'em in triples, wit no strikes, stripes, or whistles I ain't felt this good, since my wood lived off a thistle. Sippin' some ripple, I got quarters, dimes, and nickels. For shizzle dizzle, I'm on a track with the Big Snoop Dizzle. Let the Henny trickle, down the beat, wit a ghetto tempo I done blazed the instrumental, laid it plain and simple. Getting brain in the rental, I done did it again. My eyes chinky, I'm wit Chingy, at the Holidae In. Yeah, let the party begin, bitch Ching-a-ling Ling, all the way in St. Louis. My nigga Chingy, Disturbing, Tha Peace Luda, Luda, going hard on you hoes. Yeah bitch, bring four of ya friends. Meet me at the Holidae In. Bring a gang of that Hen, some DSOP. Oh wee, and light that sticky icky. And we gone do the damn thing. Now what I'm talking bout. We gon' disturb the peace right now. Yeah we ain't doing nothing but chillin. We chillin' and nuttin'. Know what I'm talking bout, so push the button. You know what's happenin', fa shizzle, uh huh. Yeah bitch, trying to run from this pimpin'. You can't out run the pimpin' bitch, I done told you.
Thing: ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL!!!
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