So you've beaten Ortiz, What could be your next trick, Can you step up in class, With a smart cherry pick? What about that fat man, With the glistening pate, If you knock him spark out, They'll think that your great, Sure he beat the great champ, But that was long ago, He's past it by now, But most folks won't know, And with that decision, At that very hour, Wilder sealed his fate, For that cherry proved sour,
Today I discovered Amongst rabid fans There exists another More sensitive man He sits down at his keyboard To provide us the fruits Of the soul of an artist And the mind of a brute The blood sweat and tears Of the violent ballet Inspire in the poet No regret or dismay For nothing can light His creative passion Like the sight of a bloody good Old fashioned bashing
On the ANNOUNCMENT that AJ is to make This content is protected an ANNOUNCEMENT Tell the world, I've made my choice, No it's not Wallin, Or Joe Joyce, Instead inform, My loyal fans, That as of now, AJ is trans, Katie Taylor, Shields too, Be warned that I'm, Coming for you, When I have all, The ladies straps, I'll flip again, And fight the chaps,
Holler: What's my name? You know... The shame Of a lame claim to boxing poetry hall-of-fame So I've returned to remind thee you and me We We're not duelin' You're just foolin' around on this godforsaken playground While your f***ing Gypsy Potato Moriarty nemesis has ascended has risen upended this doggerel into an Atilla-the-stockboxer-style beat But I'll end it reet Cos - without conceit - Your Mexican meat can't compete with this elite back-street rhyming athlete
I'm reluctant to leave, Your paltry hopes dashed, But come at me Potato, And you will get mashed, Be you a mighty King Edward, Or a mere Maris Piper, Should I rise from my slumber, You'll soon fill your diaper, So show some respect, And keep sealed those lips, Lest I peel your skin from you, And turn you to chips,
