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Grid Phreaks

Lines of code,
Hours we hold,
Striking in BOLD,
Our storys are told,

We strike fast,
with run speed like no other,
So well at evading,
why even bother?

Fatchance ain't got a fatchance,
as we prance around him, our dance.
Fire fling, and burst, The worst.
Cap his ass and Kizzer gas,
and stab his back, with Lunarattack.

Ganking others, saving a few,
For all the things, we put them through.
And we'll dart away before you can say...
"Damn those fixers, and damn their GA".

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