Two years ago, Justin Bieber appeared first in my world
My little girl, she’s twelve years only, bought his new song
Then the madness made rapid progress
Justin’s all she looks upon
He’s on her wall, he’s on her linen, that’s so wrong

That boy known as J.B.
Has to die, you must agree
When he dies, so much sweeter this world will be
That obnoxious young teen
Has to die violently
How he’ll die? This will need thought
Here’s my idea:

I can’t just shoot, taking a boy’s life has unfairly been outlawed
He’s dumb and young, I’ll just make Bieber take his own
Towards his house, I’ll send a letter
And I’ll be bitching about his songs
Insult his hair, note “in Korea, Miley’s more known”

Offended and demeaned
He will die, self-injury
Or just die when he reads that
Santa’s not real
Wait ‒ my daughter tells me
That she’s no longer his freak
Been long time, he’s got pubes now
And so does she

Has to die? Yes, he still does
For the lost years
(Has to die, has to die)
(Has to die, has to die)
He’ll be redeemed