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When 3 percenters and Nazis join hands, the stench of discovery that the trash is at hand...

Let 'um be for they root in their hells, smelling like shit as they don't wash their clothes....

Mighty and superior, they cry for it all, like babies wailing, throwing tantrums at cars

Yet before the beast, they gather like garbage kids....

Nothing to stop them, other then untied shoes and make America great lids