You're atrocious, DLC You're never up to snuff You're peddled off as garbage And you're always made of fluff DLC Devs just want their shekels {writer's note: I swear to god it ain't SHAKELS} And they can't get enough Tell me truly, DLC Give me a sooth reply Who pays for all your trinkets For the value you belie DLC Horse armor and map packs are a purchase I can't justify You are useless, season pass You're excuseless in your shit 30 dollars for a promise That they'll maybe finish it Season pass You're a buxom tranny who says xer penis is just an extra large clit Unfulfilling, Season Pass You're a snare, a pit, a trap With content we may never see Levine thinks you're a sap Season pass The three words that best describe you, are as follows, and I quote: "Crap. Crap. Crap." Suck my asshole, Pay to Win You're the bane of free to play Add in micro-transactions And now I can convey Pay to Win You ruin games like a hamplanet, besotted with her own foul smelling vaginal discharge, sweaty hirsute pits and greasy unkempt hair can kill the atmosphere of an open buffet You move my bowels, Pay to Win You cause me to kvetch Reward the casuals with a prize For profit you're a letch Pay to Win You're a double decker shit taken in my own goddamn toilet And you're making me retch
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