War Of Words

You spell out your words like a bumble bee,
forever your swearing is tormenting me.
If only a virus could sweep out its rust,
I'm sick of this game that is older than dust.
Go on be this soldier that wants to stand tall,
cause soon your toy phone will be facing a wall.
Your babbling ways somehow lost their estate,
there's no way in hell I will ever translate.
It's taking a toll, immature that's for sure,
impurity floods from your cell like a whore.
You text round the twist with your marathon raw,
doomed to die out as I send my chainsaw.
For sure I'll erase everything with a blur,
by sinking your phone as you chock on it sir.