When you can only do Fighting game comboes to the right because P1 Spawns on the left side.
A cause of playing a Fighting Game Alone.
A cause of playing a Fighting Game Alone.
Person 1: Wow, I really gotta work on my comboes on the left. P1 Syndrome hitting hard.
Person 2: Doesn’t hurt to swap your port.
Person 2: Doesn’t hurt to swap your port.
by War zone boi July 21, 2023
by Ohyeahthatsthespot August 9, 2021
Well he collapsed with Stevens-Johnson Syndrome on the E.R. floor
Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic
The way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges
Roman candles at both ends in his synapses
And the method with which he recycled his humors
Trojan Horse'd his Blood-Brain Barrier and raised the LD-50, yes, yes
And through flight-or-fight revelation shame the Black Box Warrior
He skipped this town and headed straight down history
Shields himself from reason in a Kevlar baby-blue Tuxedo
Quilted from the finest fibers, flesh, and fiberglass, and flowers
His ego a mosquito, evil incarnate good incognito
Pops placebos for libido, screaming, "Bless the torpedoes"
For what? For what? For what it's worth
If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down
Well, he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose
Around his Lotus jugular when they came
Well, they found him with a map to every victim of his love
And a tattoo of a blue jay on his face
And they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry
A hymn out in Hungarian Harmonic
But he cocked his noggin, through his stoma sang, "For auld lang syne"
"Happy birthday to the succulents, I'll die your hydroponics"
His rib cage was a hornet's nest, palpitations set the beat
His vagus nerve a turk's head knot, an axel hitch, a carrick bend
Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic
The way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges
Roman candles at both ends in his synapses
And the method with which he recycled his humors
Trojan Horse'd his Blood-Brain Barrier and raised the LD-50, yes, yes
And through flight-or-fight revelation shame the Black Box Warrior
He skipped this town and headed straight down history
Shields himself from reason in a Kevlar baby-blue Tuxedo
Quilted from the finest fibers, flesh, and fiberglass, and flowers
His ego a mosquito, evil incarnate good incognito
Pops placebos for libido, screaming, "Bless the torpedoes"
For what? For what? For what it's worth
If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down
Well, he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose
Around his Lotus jugular when they came
Well, they found him with a map to every victim of his love
And a tattoo of a blue jay on his face
And they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry
A hymn out in Hungarian Harmonic
But he cocked his noggin, through his stoma sang, "For auld lang syne"
"Happy birthday to the succulents, I'll die your hydroponics"
His rib cage was a hornet's nest, palpitations set the beat
His vagus nerve a turk's head knot, an axel hitch, a carrick bend
to get this published, I have to add the name, but they also wouldnt let me add all the elyrics so this is just a part 1! anyways, here's the enamel that this site wanted : Black box warrior (p1)
by AHAHHARAGHGHGHGHGGHG!!!!!! ): November 8, 2023