Earth is flat jack, flatter than a flapjack. We bout to flat smack, globers get your backpack. I’m with my flat-pack, globes in the trash sack. Azimuthal equidistant map up on my snap-back. Flat-smacken everybody at Joe’s Crab Shack, lookin at us like what we sayin is so abstract. Lesson 1: no curvature there to be found, how can it be a ball if nothing about it is round. Lesson 2: three-quarters of the ground is covered by flat water, do you hear the way that sounds? Lesson 3: take a look at the stars you see at night, same constellations that you’ve been seein for all your life. And never trust NASA cause nothin they say is right, they’re lying right to your face and they mock us in plain sight. You can straight up see the wires and the green screen glitches, the water bubbles floating on the spacewalk missions. It’s detestable, I refuse to be another vegetable. pseudo-science garbage will to me be unacceptable. Anyone with eyes to see don’t have to be susceptible, dispose of your globe in the nearest waste receptacle.