For my devoted family. Unload then I go to plan B

No expiry date, I’m like a ’98 Toyota Camry

I eat a load of candy first and then I make an info query

Understand my lingo clearly and the broken windows theory

From rumbling double-time, I’m plumb-tuckered

I’m so sick of these stick figures and thumb-suckers

Certain civilians, maybe millions died and some suffered

Boom-banging beats, even if they’re unstructured

Getting physical. Invisible individual. It’s despicable

Typical. It gets predictable. Topical if applicable

They call me crazy-noggin. Wrecking every place he’s rocking

Eating ‘em like Tasty Ramen. Plastic man. I’m Stacey Augmon

Enthusiastic fans expecting me to go the distance

No assistance. A consistent form of coexistence

The gangster boogieman. Golden Dawn. The middle pillar

Last laugh like Phyllis Diller meets the driller killer

Iller with the silver tongue, I crack the cat o’ nine tails

More often blowing the doors off the guide rails