VAYGR SEKRET EXPLOIT CHEATS SHH DONT TELL MOM LIKE FOR FREE HELICOPTER RIDES SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE SHIT

TheDerpGamerTheDerpGamer Dovan Grand InquisitorFührerbunker

Accordin ta all known lawz of aviation, there is no way a funky-ass bee should be able ta fly. Its wings is too lil' small-ass ta git its fat lil body off tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da bee, of course, flies anyway cuz bees couldn't give a fuckin shiznit what tha fuck humans be thinkin is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black n' yellow! Letz shake it up a lil. Barry dawwwwg! Breakfast is locked n loaded dawwwwg! Ooming! Hang on a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Hello, biatch? - Barry, biatch? - Adam, biatch? - Oan you believe dis is happening, biatch? - I can't. I be bout ta pick you up. Lookin sharp. Use tha stairs. Yo crazy-ass daddy paid phat scrilla fo' them. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sorry. I be excited. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time yo. Herez tha graduate. We straight-up proud as a muthafucka of you, son. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A slick report card, all B's. Straight-up proud as a muthafucka as a muthafucka.Ma! I gots a thang goin here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. - Yo ass gots lint on yo' fuzz. - Ow! Thatz me biaaatch! - Wave ta us muthafucka! We bout ta be up in row 118,000. - Bye biaaatch! Barry, I holla'd at you, stop flyin up in tha doggy den biaaatch! - Yo, Adam. - Yo, Barry. - Is dat fuzz gel, biatch? - A lil. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Special day, graduation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Never thought I'd make dat shit. Three minutes grade school, three minutes high school. Those was awkward. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Three minutes college. I be glad I took a thugged-out dizzle n' hitchhiked round tha hive. Yo ass did come back different. - Yea muthafucka, Barry. - Artie, growin a mustache, biatch? Looks good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! - Hear bout Frankie, biatch? - Yeah. - Yo ass goin ta tha funeral, biatch? - Fuck dat shit, I aint going. All Y'all knows, stin one of mah thugs, you take a thugged-out dirt nap. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Such a hothead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I guess his schmoooove ass could have just gotten outta tha way. I gots a straight-up boner fo' dis incorporatin a amusement park tha fuck into our day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Thatz why our phat asses don't need vacations. Boy, like a lil' bit of pomp... under tha circumstances. - Well, Adam, todizzle we is men. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. - We is biaaatch! - Bee-men. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oitizzle graduatin class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies fo' realz. And begins yo' game at Honex Industries muthafucka! Will we pick ourjob todizzle, biatch? I heard itz just orientation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Headz up! Here we go. Keep yo' handz n' antennas inside tha tram at all times. - Wonder what tha fuck it'll be like, biatch? - A lil freaky. Yo, wuz crackalackin', biatch? Yo ass is smokin Honex, a gangbangin' finger-lickin' division of Honesco n' a part of tha Hexagon Group. This is dat shiznit son! Wow. Wow. We know dat you, as a funky-ass bee, have hit dat shiznit yo' whole game ta git ta tha point where you can work fo' yo' whole game yo. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks brang tha nectar ta tha hive. Our top-secret formula be automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted n' bubble-contoured tha fuck into dis soothang dope syrup wit its distinctizzle golden glow you know as.. yo. Honey dawwwwg! - That hoe was hot. - Dat hoe mah cousin! - Biatch is, biatch? - Yes, we all cousins. - Right. Yo ass is right. - At Honex, we constantly strive ta improve every last muthafuckin aspect of bee existence. These bees is stress-testin a freshly smoked up helmet technology. - What do you be thinkin he makes, biatch? - Not enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce yo. Here our crazy asses have our sickest fuckin advancement, tha Krelman. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. - What do dat do, biatch? - Oatches dat lil strand of honey dat hangs afta you pour dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Saves our asses millions. Oan mah playas work on tha Krelman, biatch? Of course. Most bee thangs is lil' small-ass ones. But bees know dat every last muthafuckin lil' small-ass thang, if itz done well, means all muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! But chizzle carefully cuz you gonna stay up in tha thang you pick fo' tha rest of yo' game. Da same thang tha rest of yo' game, biatch? I didn't give a fuck dis shit. Whatz tha difference, biatch? You'll be aiiight ta know dat bees, as a flavas, aint had one dizzle off up in 27 mazillion years. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So you gonna just work our asses ta dirtnap, biatch? We bout ta shizzle try. Fuck dis shiznit son! That blew mah mind hommie! "Whatz tha difference?" How tha fuck can you say that, biatch? One thang forever, biatch? Thatz a crazy chizzle ta gotta make. I be relieved. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Now we only gotta make one decision up in tha game. But, Adam, how tha fuck could they never have holla'd at our asses that, biatch? Why would you question anything, biatch? We bees. We da most thugged-out perfectly functionin society on Earth. Yo ass eva be thinkin maybe thangs work a lil too well here, biatch? Like what, biatch? Give me one example. I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. But you know what tha fuck I be poppin' off about. Please clear tha gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Oheck it out. - Yo, dem is Pollen Jocks muthafucka! - Wow. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I never peeped dem dis close. They know what tha fuck itz like outside tha hive. Yeah yo, but some don't come back. - Yo, Jocks muthafucka! - Yea muthafucka, Jocks muthafucka! Yo ass muthafuckas did pimped out son! Yo ass is monsters muthafucka! Yo ass is sky freaks muthafucka! I gots a straight-up boner fo' dat shiznit son! I gots a straight-up boner fo' dat shiznit son! - I wonder where they were, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. - I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Their dayz not planned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Outside tha hive, flyin whoz ass knows where, bustin whoz ass knows what. Yo ass can'tjust decizzle ta be a Pollen Jock. Yo ass gotta be bred fo' dis shit. Right. Look. Thatz mo' pollen than you n' I'ma peep up in a gametime. It aint nuthin but just a status symbol. Bees make too much of dat shit. Perhaps. Unless you bustin it n' tha ladies peep you bustin dat shit. Those ladies, biatch? Aren't they our cousins too, biatch? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Letz have funk wit dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Well shiiiit, it must be fucked up bein a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a funky-ass bear pinned mah crazy ass against a mushroom! Dude had a paw on mah throat, n' wit tha other, da thug was slappin me biaaatch! - Oh, mah dawwwwg! - I never thought I'd knock his ass out. What was you bustin durin this, biatch? Tryin ta alert tha authorities. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! I can autograph dis shiznit fo' realz. A lil gusty up there todizzle, wasn't it, comrades, biatch? Yeah. Gusty. Our thugged-out asses hittin a sunflower patch six milez from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh, biatch? - Barry dawwwwg! A puddle jump fo' our asses yo, but maybe you not up fo' dat shit. - Maybe I am. - Yo ass aint son! We goin 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy, biatch? Is you bee enough, biatch? I might be. Well shiiiit, it all dependz on what tha fuck 0900 means. Yo, Honex! Dad, you surprised mah dirty ass. Yo ass decizzle what tha fuck you interested in, biatch? - Well, there be a a shitload of chizzles. - But you only git one. Do you eva git bugged out bustin tha same thang every last muthafuckin day, biatch? Son, let me rap bout stirring. Yo ass grab dat stick, n' you just move it around, n' you stir it around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass git yo ass tha fuck into a rhythm. It aint nuthin but a funky-ass dope thang. Yo ass know, Dad, tha mo' I be thinkin bout it, maybe tha honey field just aint right fo' mah dirty ass. Yo ass was thankin of what, makin balloon muthafuckas, biatch? Thatz a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass thang fo' a muthafucka wit a stinger n' shit. Janet, yo' sonz not shizzle da thug wants ta go tha fuck into honey dawwwwg! - Barry, yo ass is so funky sometimes. - I aint tryin ta be funky. Yo ass aint funky dawwwwg! Yo ass is goin tha fuck into honey. Our son, tha stirrer playa! - Yo ass is gonna be a stirrer, biatch? - No onez listenin ta me biaaatch! Wait till you peep tha sticks I have. I could say anythang n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. I'ma git a ant tattoo! Letz open some honey n' big-up biaaatch! Maybe I be bout ta pierce mah thorax. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shave mah antennae. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shack up wit a grasshopper n' shit. Git a gold tooth n' call dem hoes "dawg"! I be soopa-doopa proud as a muthafucka as a muthafucka.- We startin work todizzle dawwwwg! - Todayz tha day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Oome on! All tha phat thangs is ghon be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, afro removal...

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