The Great Limerick War

Unfortunately the Great Charge of the Light Brigade Dropbear271 and I pulled on an unsuspecting Fimfic user has been lost to the void of HaS but on the HiE skype group I managed to procure something...

Drop went first.

One day in the HIE Chat,
On politness we truely did shat.
The members all fled,
Their sanity dead,
And Lorenzo is still fucking fat.

One day in the Hie chat,
Biggs, some b-grade he shat,
Kicked from the group,
I had to low stoop,
All the way to adding him back.

There once was a cunt called Gizmo,
Who really was mentally slow,
He removed me from chat,
But baby I'm back,
So now my fat dick he can blow.

This skype chat just really is lame,
The admin my rhymes he does tame,
But the joke is on him,
Cause I spit fire at whim,
And this poet you just can't contain.

Dropbear is dropping the hate
The admin he wants to bait
But in all the shit
his rhymes cannot hit
And replies are coming too late

Lorenzo is such a fat cunt,
His wit must be rather blunt,
He tries to compete,
But can't take the heat,
So he should stop trying to pull a stunt.

Biggs has a small dick,
And his skull is rather thick,
It shames me to say,
That every day,
I'm brothered still to the prick.

Every time Lorry tries to write verse,
It just goes from mediocre to worse,
He should really stop now,
Leave the stage with a bow,
Or he's gonna end up in a hearse.

From stance to stance he jumps
His rhyme as fun as the mumps
The more he attacks,
The more he retracts,
Into the Chrssy pillow he humps.

In the skype chat late one day,
Lorenzo was acting so gay,
He tried to Limrick,
But just sucked a dick,
Yet still he decides to just stay.

The name he wears is Dropbear,
It fits, his rhymes always go there,
Down from the tree,
All we can see,
A preference towards the stair.

His verse leaks like a seive,
Literature we must bereave,
His ryhmes are so strained,
And awfully maimed,
So shoddy his poetry weaved.

Once in the skype chat of HIE,
I did battle with one just like me,
But my internet's slow,
Starcitizen you know,
So until morn I must leave he be.

Dropbear sees fit to go,
Blaming his internet's slow,
I know he is scared,
His SC account bared,
Unable to come toe-to-toe.

Lorenzo is clutching at straws,
Raping verse without even pause,
I guess it's no shock,
He's a massive cock,
With the poetry skill of five whores.

Oh woe, to line number 4,
His fortunes incredibly poor.
Unable to live,
After it took a shiv,
Dropbear stabbing it's core.

Things can get a bit heated; but the bastard snuck up on me.