BlowingKush
I hit the blunt but the blunt hit me.
- Reaction score
- 188
Tower Rushed By A Noob
I should have been much wiser.
I thought my base was right.
I thought my build was perfect.
For the last game of the night.
I built the perfect farm wall.
I placed the perfect tower.
I smoked the perfect reefer.
To pass that late night hour.
I should have seen his peons.
I should have seen them comming.
I should have seen his fucking build,
When I sent my hero running.
The minimap had changed.
My base looked so much bigger.
I should have known,
That noob who owned,
Would play me like a nigger.
I tried to tech my town hall.
I tried to get some siege.
I tried to get a real fat sack,
That lacked in stem and seed.
My allies would not help me.
They said that I was screwed.
They said may base,
Was such a waste,
And that I am a noob.
I tried to make some towers.
But had no fucking wood.
It's such a sin,
To lose this win,
If your game is going good.
My hero had a potion.
My allie had a grunt.
My roomate had a swisher.
To roll this fucking blunt.
I knew the game was over.
I knew it would be short.
So I rang my bell,
And ran like hell,
As a last resort.
My peasants fought like Scottsman.
My peasants fought like men.
My peasants fought,
While I smoked this pot,
And passed it to my friend.
The battle soon was over.
The grass was stained in blood.
The towers torched in fire.
Withstood my peasant flood.
Tower rushed by a noob,
It could make a grown man cry.
It could make a man,
With a gentle hand,
Who has never told a lie.
It could make him very angry.
It could make him shout out loud.
It could make a muslim,
And his distant cousin,
Detonate in a crowd.
And so this ends my story.
I hope you learned a lesson.
I hope that night,
Your blunt's rolled tight,
When towers are a press'in.
-BudSMoke
I should have been much wiser.
I thought my base was right.
I thought my build was perfect.
For the last game of the night.
I built the perfect farm wall.
I placed the perfect tower.
I smoked the perfect reefer.
To pass that late night hour.
I should have seen his peons.
I should have seen them comming.
I should have seen his fucking build,
When I sent my hero running.
The minimap had changed.
My base looked so much bigger.
I should have known,
That noob who owned,
Would play me like a nigger.
I tried to tech my town hall.
I tried to get some siege.
I tried to get a real fat sack,
That lacked in stem and seed.
My allies would not help me.
They said that I was screwed.
They said may base,
Was such a waste,
And that I am a noob.
I tried to make some towers.
But had no fucking wood.
It's such a sin,
To lose this win,
If your game is going good.
My hero had a potion.
My allie had a grunt.
My roomate had a swisher.
To roll this fucking blunt.
I knew the game was over.
I knew it would be short.
So I rang my bell,
And ran like hell,
As a last resort.
My peasants fought like Scottsman.
My peasants fought like men.
My peasants fought,
While I smoked this pot,
And passed it to my friend.
The battle soon was over.
The grass was stained in blood.
The towers torched in fire.
Withstood my peasant flood.
Tower rushed by a noob,
It could make a grown man cry.
It could make a man,
With a gentle hand,
Who has never told a lie.
It could make him very angry.
It could make him shout out loud.
It could make a muslim,
And his distant cousin,
Detonate in a crowd.
And so this ends my story.
I hope you learned a lesson.
I hope that night,
Your blunt's rolled tight,
When towers are a press'in.
-BudSMoke