Reeking

Everyone hides something, a nasty smell
Slime coming from their fingers you can tell
Most are afraid of where that scum may dwell
It's burning alive in a concrete cell
Embrace it, own it, some things just don't gel
Some people too, most things don't work out well
Only recoiling when your own grease fell
Plopping in between them as a bombshell
They could've just shook hands and bid farewell
Just had to get mad at the new intel
Fighting from either end and raising hell
But they're only angry cause they couldn't tell
Acting as if your s**t should wear a bell