 |
|
3:40 | 
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
You must die I alone am best!
I hope ya flip some guy the bird He cuts you off and you're forced to swerve In front of the Beatles' tour bus A Bookmobile and a Mack truck Hauling hazardous biological waste The light turns red you have no brakes And "Hard Copy" gets it all on tape So you can see the look on your face Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die I hope your Pinto begins to spin Takes out a disabled Vietnam Veteran Mows down a Nobel Peace Prize Winner And maybe some orphans having Christmas dinner Perhaps even the British Royal Family And the Rabbi that's clutching the bottle-fed puppy And we can't forget the newlyweds And those Jerry's Kids are as good as dead I hope this helps to emphasize I hope this helps to clarify I hope you die I hope your cellmate thinks he's God But C.N.N. refer to him as "Bowling Ball Bag Bob" Serving time again for abuse of a corpse Only this time the victim's a Clydesdale horse While he masturbates to photos of livestock He does the "Silence of the Lambs" dance to Christian Rock Eats feces and quotes from "Deliverance" And fights with his imaginary playmate Vince Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die I hope he grins like Jack Nicholson And forces you to play a game called "Balls On Chin" And whatever happens next is all a blur But you remember "fist" can be a verb And when you finally regain consciousness You're bound and gagged in a wedding dress And the prison guard looks the other way ‘Cause he's the guy ya flipped the bird the other day I hope this helps to emphasize I hope this helps to clarify I hope you die I hope you die |
|||||
|
|
4:02 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
"A" is for "Apple"
"B" is for "Balloons" "C" is for "Crayons" "D" is for "Drum" Like my scrotum here it is in a nutshell One thousand nine hundred and seventy-two That's the year I got here when my dear mother's water blew Not really realizing the prize that's been begot to her The bona fide lo-fi high-octane philosopher Genius with a penis the few the proud the me I liked me so much I had to buy the company Soul for sale sold to Satan for a hell of a lotta luck I'm hard to come by like a straight guy working at Starbucks Thank the thinkers that think they thunk the thoughts that theorized Idolized or despised bet I'm gettin' recognized Mount Rushmore it? No ignore it can't rock with no big head Half of the people want me half of the people want me dead I am the Angel of Def with my rhymes against humanity Teeter-tottering between brilliance and insanity The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope It's the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope Conclusions you drew proportions you blew Lost son of Iggy? False Bigger nose than Ziggy? True Yes my name is Jimmy Pop no my pop's name is Dick Don't admit to kick it slick you thick derelict critic Put down for missed notes put up with misquotes Don't want the whole story? Should have bought the Cliff Notes Like Fingerpainting 101 give me no credit for having class One thumb on the pulse of the nation one thumb in your girlfriend's ass I don't think that I'm a sell-out but I do "Enjoy Coke!" I struck gold but never took it for granite that's how I planned it so can it Around the planet fans demand it and you'll never understand it When I die no lie plan on mass pandemonium They may display my brain in a pickle jar at the Smithsonian The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope It's the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope |
|||||
|
|
0:35 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Hello Frank,
Hello mother dear Hi, ..., what are you doin' I am trying to think of words that rhyme with vagina Oh, lima? Like lima beans How about that, that teenage witch, Sabrina No, that's a made up-word, Jim What if you change the word vagina to something else Like boxer, pussy or cunt. No, Jim........ |
|||||
|
|
3:55 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
My last girlfriend didn't like me thought she might be
Most likely a dyke she just didn't excite me Lefty? Yeah but that was alright She was hotter than the sun but she just wasn't that bright My mistake she was more flaky than a leper colony I think a wooden clothespin would have been much better company Ass like a donkey acting funky gave her "L" now she's a flunky So my love for her died quicker than a batch of Sea Monkeys Early bird gets the worm spread your legs or spread the word So what if I'm not the smartest peanut in the turd I'm white which goes with everything but I can come in any color And I'm looking for the kind of girl that reminds me of my mother But it's hard to find a girl with a viper tattooed on her tushy And how many girls do you know that can play the harmonica with their pussies? Like em' easy and hot and sweet like a Rice Krispie Treat, gee You know what I really want in a girl? Me I need to find a new vagina Any kind of new vagina It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina Calvin Klein, kind of. North Carolina Women are like dog, doo, hear me through don't interrupt It's just the older that they are the easier they get to pick-up I'd fill the generation gap clean the cobwebs from her rafters Old hens would rather put out than be put out to the pasture No age just ain't a gauge I like my girls like my cheese Preferably for me fat-free American singles only I want my next chick anorexic, the winner is the thinner Won't have to take her skinny ass out to a fancy dinner Like Sizzler she got a beef we'll chew the fat If I forget to put the seat up I can put up with her crap Let her lash out and crack the whip but not in bed I don't play rough No I can't be tied down with a girl that wants me tied up Just independent like NOFX ,smart like Janeane Garafolo She'd use big words to make fun of me so that I would never know Bestow upon me all her wisdom of the Dewey Decimal System, gee You know what I really want in a girl? Me I need to find a new vagina Any kind of new vagina It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina Kevin Klein? Kind of South Carolina Vagina vagina vagina vagina Vagina vagina vagina vagina |
|||||
|
|
4:37 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
We gonna drop this next bomb for a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo.
Yeah, Notorious B.I.G. Hell no, we gonna do this for a gangbanging thug that never seen it comin'. Yeah, Tupac Shakur. Nah bitch, I'm talkin' ‘bout motherfuckin' Falco and shit. What? Falco? Rock me Amadeus Rock me Amadeus Rock me Amadeus Rock me Amadeus Tried to O.D. on the Cold-Eeze "Golden Girls" got me "Sweatin' To The Oldies" Hanging out like Double Ds sip Long Island Iced Teas Wrote to Mayor McCheese "Send a Shamrock Shake please!" Three O' Clock on the dot time to cruise for Eighth graders Rather tape the Weather Channel so that I can watch it later Reruns of Rerun so "What's Happening?" Dee's knocked up and Rog on crack again Deep throat a whole Nutty Buddy Make whoopie to a batch of Silly Putty Make a Spam and Colgate sandwich and ate it Go through "National Geographic" and draw panties on the natives So I like to dance naked in front of my pets But my cat was inattentive so I sent him U.P.S. Playin' spin the bottle with my mom I watch "Cops" with no pants on Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes Deader than the parents on a "Party of Five" Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill Not going nowhere slim chance we will Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Nowhere to go I can't wake up late Just sit around and wait for my Old Spice to activate Stalemate jailbait in "My So-Called Life" imprisonment Amazing what a good breakfast pickles make isn't it? I like to pretend I'm speed reading Never lose the sight of the thrill of sneezing Don't need a shower today just some Brut by Faberge Smell the ass of my jeans clean they'll do another day And I recycle I sniff my own farts I dial the wrong number hope a conversation starts I mean I might as well be listenin' to Journey Givin' myself a mullet hook the Flowbee to the Kirby Make a prank call pretendin' I'm a mime Get stuck in traffic just to pass the time Sent a letter in the mail in Braille to Johnny Quest Send me back my Etch-A-Sketch Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes Deader than the parents on a "Party of Five" Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill Not going nowhere slim chance we will Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum Yo yo yo yo yo! What it is motherfuckers? Aw shit, here comes Pac-Man. Hey Pac-Man, what's up? Me you bitches! I'm high on crack! Wanna freebase? No Pac-Man drugs are bad! Nope can't help you man. Pussies. Whoa! Holy shit! Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes Deader than the parents on a "Party of Five" Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill Not going nowhere slim chance we will Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Holy macaroni Holy macaroni Holy macaroni Holy macaroni |
|||||
|
|
3:49 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Yummy down on yummy down on this down on
Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Ouch it won’t reach my mouth If I could do it myself I’d probably never leave the house But I can’t so here’s where you come in Giving it "Diff’rent Strokes" just like Arnold Drummond Hummin’ hmm hmm good like Campbell’s And you’ll handle the sack like the quarterback Randall Cunningham like Joanie loves Chachi They call him Ralph Mouth ‘cause he’s down on Potsie Rocky chasing the chicken Watch the plot thicken with the cock when your lickin’ Me like Apollo your Creed my Mission You go down for the count I countdown ignition Blast off you’re a rocket scientist A genius what I mean is you suck at this So escargot ‘cause my snail needs Frenchin’ You must be five stars cause my staff’s at full attention Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Dinner for one I know you got your reservations Starvation like a Third World Nation So do it for the children and I’ll make a donation My fly’s in your eyes let me rise to the occasion In my Underoos I tend to be brief So when you’re sinking your teeth deep into my beef You can fondle but it’s kind of like McDonald’s realize it’s Just a Happy Meal so you can’t Super Size it Told to hold the pickle then you went and blew it Gherkin off and the Special Sauce comes included But you knew it did so concentrate like Tropicana To eat a Chiquita you need to grow the banana So can ya Bob like Dylan on my Peter like Criss ‘Til it’s Chubby like Checker c’mon baby do the twist It’s all in the wrist like table tennis So beat me like Betty Crocker cake mix Yummy down on this down on this down on this (x4) Suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it (x4) If you were a Hindu I could aim for the dot Yummy down on this Yummy down on this Yummy down on this throbbing pole of hot man chicken. And feel free to wiggledunk those purple bulldog cheeks. |
|||||
|
|
2:22 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Yummy down on yummy down on this down on
Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Ouch it won’t reach my mouth If I could do it myself I’d probably never leave the house But I can’t so here’s where you come in Giving it "Diff’rent Strokes" just like Arnold Drummond Hummin’ hmm hmm good like Campbell’s And you’ll handle the sack like the quarterback Randall Cunningham like Joanie loves Chachi They call him Ralph Mouth ‘cause he’s down on Potsie Rocky chasing the chicken Watch the plot thicken with the cock when your lickin’ Me like Apollo your Creed my Mission You go down for the count I countdown ignition Blast off you’re a rocket scientist A genius what I mean is you suck at this So escargot ‘cause my snail needs Frenchin’ You must be five stars cause my staff’s at full attention Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Dinner for one I know you got your reservations Starvation like a Third World Nation So do it for the children and I’ll make a donation My fly’s in your eyes let me rise to the occasion In my Underoos I tend to be brief So when you’re sinking your teeth deep into my beef You can fondle but it’s kind of like McDonald’s realize it’s Just a Happy Meal so you can’t Super Size it Told to hold the pickle then you went and blew it Gherkin off and the Special Sauce comes included But you knew it did so concentrate like Tropicana To eat a Chiquita you need to grow the banana So can ya Bob like Dylan on my Peter like Criss ‘Til it’s Chubby like Checker c’mon baby do the twist It’s all in the wrist like table tennis So beat me like Betty Crocker cake mix Yummy down on this down on this down on this (x4) Suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it (x4) If you were a Hindu I could aim for the dot Yummy down on this Yummy down on this Yummy down on this throbbing pole of hot man chicken. And feel free to wiggledunk those purple bulldog cheeks. |
|||||
|
|
0:16 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Chasey Lain replying to Jimmy Pop's requests...
Ooh, that was creepy I would rather slurp rancid tunasalad out of my own ass or scour my boobies off with a rusty SLS pad or hump a piece of splintered ... |
|||||
|
|
4:01 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Why try? I'm that guy
Holden Caulfield from "Catcher In The Rye" Put away ‘cause he wasn't all there Like a jigsaw puzzle you might compare Me to him not a liver but wurst Been much better off as a still birth Big let down unparalleled Like the last episode of "Seinfeld" Or Jack Lemmon in "Glengarry Glen Ross" Pepsi Challenge took it lost Just fizzed out with my wires crossed Buttons pushed but never went off Like Martha I will self-destruct The name's Dunnstock it's not Dumptruck Just cursed as fuck with no such luck My future plans include not much Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be Nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be Nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be Nothin' more than me Always gonna be always gonna be always gonna always gonna be Most likely to suck Wanna be a Ghostbuster First black President, owner of "Hustler" Got shot down like Larry Flynt Felt like shit like a bowel movement Have you seen my will to live? Because I seem to have lost it Lovelife? No but Mom thinks I'm handsome Couldn't get off if I held a pimp for ransom Feel like Jimmy Stewart no one sees my Harvey Toxic Shock Syndrome gets more girls than me Like Pee Wee Herman spermin' I can See the future in the palm of my hand Psychic Friends, Network loser Large phone bill in my very near future Dealt nothing and bluffing hard Playing poker with a joker and some Uno cards Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be Nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be Nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be Nothin' more than me Always gonna be always gonna be always gonna always gonna be Most likely to suck Most likely to suck (x5) |
|||||
|
|
4:21 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Ha-ha, well now,
We call this the act of mating But there are several other Very important differences Between human beings and animals That you should know about I'd appreciate your input Sweat baby, sweat baby Sex is a Texas drought Me and you do the kind of stuff That only Prince would sing about So put your hands down my pants And I bet you'll feel nuts Yes I''m Siskel, yes I'm Ebert And you're getting two thumbs up You've had enough of two-hand touch You want it rough, you're out of bounds I want you smothered, want you covered Like my Waffle House hashbrowns Comin' quicker than Fed Ex Never reach an apex Just like coca-cola stock You are inclined to make me rise an hour early Just like daylight savings time Do it now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let''s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Gettin' horny now Love the kind, you clean up With a mop and bucket Like the lost catacombs of Egypt Only God knows where we stuck it Hieroglyphics? Let me be Pacific I wanna go down in your South Seas But I got this notion That the motion of your ocean means "Small Craft Advisory" So if I capsize on your thights High tide B-5 you sunk my battleship Please turn me on I'm Mr. Coffee With an automatic drip So show me yours, I'll show you mine "Tool Time" You'll Lovelett just like Lyle And then we'll do it doggy style So we can both watch "X-Files" You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let''s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Gettin' horny now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let''s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Gettin' horny now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let''s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel Gettin' horny now |
|||||
|
|
0:15 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Coughing sounds...
|
|||||
|
|
5:02 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Alright now boys and girls we've got another story for you now!
We want to introduce to you another friend of the Bible! Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah If I were God there would be no explicit sex on T.V. Like little Opie eating pie when he made it with Aunt Bea If I were God thou shall not worship false Billy Idols And thou shall add the Book Of Flavor Flav to the Bible Thou shall make fun of Hindus thou shall not make a "Speed 2" If I were God that's what I'd do Heavens no Hell yeah (x4) If I were God I'd get a bunch of slaves to do everything Norwegian lesbians that feed me grapes and know how to sing If I were God thou shall not wear tube socks with Flip-Flops Thou shall sit and thou shall spin thou shall even wife swap Thou shall resist the Olsen Twins, thou shall not cut "Footloose" If I were God that's what I'd do, Heavens no Hell yeah (x4) And when they nail my pimpled ass to the cross I'll tell them I found Jesus that should throw them off He goes by the name Jesus and steals hubcaps from cars Oh Jesus can I borrow your crowbar? To pry these God damn nails out they're beginning to hurt Crucified and all I got was this lousy T-shirt "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" I'll sing as I'm flogged Yeah that's what I would do if I were God So vote for me for Savior and you'll go to Heaven Your lame duck Lord is like Kevin Spacey in "Seven" With creepy threats of H-E-Double-Hockey-Stick You just can't teach an old God new tricks But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? Just sport some crummy "holier than thou" facade Yeah that's what I would do if I were God |
|||||
|
|
0:10 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
How do you let someone know if your hot cakes are selling well?
|
|||||
|
|
5:38 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
I was lonelier than Kunta Kinte at a Merle Haggard concert
That night I strolled on into Uncle Limpy's Hump Palace lookin' for love. It had been a while. In fact, three hundred and sixty-five had come and went since that midnight run haulin' hog to Shakey Town on I-10. I had picked up this hitchhiker that was sweatin' gallons through a pair of Daisy Duke cut-offs and one of those Fruit Of The Loom tank-tops. Well, that night I lost myself to ruby red lips, milky white skin and baby blue eyes. Name was Russell. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well, faster than you can say, "shallow grave", this pretty little thing come up to me and starts kneadin' my balls like hard-boiled eggs in a tube sock. Said her name was Bambi and I said, "Well that's a coincidence darlin', ‘cause I was just thinkin' about skinnin' you like a deer." Well she smiled, had about as much teeth as a Jack-O-Lantern, and I went on to tell her how I would wear her face like a mask as I do my little kooky dance. And then she told me to shush. I guess she could sense my desperation. ‘Course, it's hard to hide a hard-on when you're dressed like Minnie Pearl. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' So, Bambi's goin' on about how she can make all my fantasies come true. So I says, "Even this one I have where Jesus Christ is jackhammering Mickey Mouse in the doo-doo hole with a lawn dart as Garth Brooks gives birth to something resembling a cheddar cheese log with almonds on Santa Claus's tummy-tum?" Well, ten beers, twenty minutes and thirty dollars later I'm parkin' the beef bus in tuna town if you know what I mean. Got to nail her back at her trailer. Heh. That rhymes. I have to admit it was even more of a turn-on when I found out she was doin' me to buy baby formula. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Day or so had passed when I popped the clutch, gave the tranny a spin and slid on into The Stinky Pinky Gulp N' Guzzle Big Rig Snooze-A-Stop. There I was browsin' through the latest issue of "Throb", when I saw Bambi starin' at me from the back of a milk carton. Well, my heart just dropped. So, I decided to do what any good Christian would. You can not imagine how difficult it is to hold a half gallon of moo juice and polish the one-eyed gopher when your doin' seventy-five in an eighteen-wheeler. I never thought missing children could be so sexy. Did I say that out loud? Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' |
|||||
|
|
0:10 | 
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
3:20 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Every time I think that
I'm the only one who's lonely Someone calls on me And every now and then I spend my time at rhyme and verse And curse those faults in me And then along comes Mary And does she want to give me kicks and be my steady chick And give me pick of memories Or maybe rather gather tales from all the fails and tribulations No one ever sees When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch When vague desire is the fire In the eyes of chicks whose sickness Is the games they play And when the masquerade is played The neighbor folks make jokes At who is most to blame today And then along comes Mary And does she want to set them free and Let them see reality From where she got her name And will they struggle much when told that such a tender touch of hers Will make them not the same When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch And when the morning of the warning's passed The gassed and flaccid kids Are flung across the stars The psychodramas and the traumas gone The songs have all been sung And hung upon the scars And then along comes Mary And does she want to see the stains, The dead remains of all the pain She left the night before Or will their waking eyes reflect the lies And make them realize Their urgent cry for sight no more When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fahrenheit 911 (2005)
The roof the roof the roof is on fire
The roof the roof the roof is on fire The roof the roof the roof is on fire We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn Burn motherfucker burn Hello my name is Jimmy Pop and I'm a dumb white guy I'm not old or new but middle school fifth grade like junior high I don't know mofo if y'all peeps be buggin' givin' props to my ho 'cause she fly But I can take the heat 'cause I'm the other white meat known as Kid Funky Fried Yeah I'm hung like planet Pluto hard to see with the naked eye But if I crashed into Uranus I would stick it where the sun don't shine 'Cause I'm kind of like Han Solo always strokin' my own Wookiee I'm the root of all that's evil yeah but you can call me Cookie The roof the roof the roof is on fire The roof the roof the roof is on fire The roof the roof the roof is on fire We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn Burn motherfucker burn Yo yo this hardcore ghetto gangster image takes a lot of practice I'm not black like Barry White no I am white like Frank Black is So if man is five and the Devil is six than that must make me seven This honky's gone to heaven But if I go to hell well then I hope I burn well I'll spend my days with J.F.K., Marvin Gaye, Martha Raye, and Lawrence Welk And Kurt Cobain, Kojak, Mark Twain and Jimi Hendrix's poltergeist And Webster yeah Emmanuel Lewis 'cause he's the Anti-Christ The roof the roof the roof is on fire The roof the roof the roof is on fire The roof the roof the roof is on fire We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn Burn motherfucker burn Everybody here we go Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Throw your hands in the air Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Wave 'em like you don't care Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody say ho Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody here we go Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Throw your hands in the air Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Wave 'em like you don't care Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody say ho Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody here we go Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Throw your hands in the air Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Wave 'em like you don't care Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody say ho Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody here we go |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
(Jimmy Pop:) Eminem's gotta cuss in his raps to sell records, well me too, so f**k Will Smith!
(DJ Q-Ball:) That don't rhyme. (Jimmy Pop:) Drats. (both laugh) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
Potent is the flow which is wicked sick
So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick Potent is the flow which is wicked sick So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick I don't give a shit about celebrity But motherfuckers did ya happen to see who's here? me The bottom feeder at the top of the food chain Frontin' from the back of the line on some dude named After car parts that as fast as a spark hitting gas Starts a fire gets wired from barbs that Cut like a jalapeno popper fart Burnin' up an asshole that once ripped apart Punched hard but it ain't like I ever cared if I went Too far as stitches left scars from more clowns bent Outta shape than the Cirque du Soleil ever had so Though he throws his weight around he's still in my shadow In the dark so he doesn't know his girl remarked that I make her Laugh on the inside but I can hear it later With my dick as her other cunt gets screwed In the process I got to get hot chicks nude The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Potent is the flow which is wicked sick So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick Potent is the flow which is wicked sick So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick Thanks to you bitches I got more screams Than David Arquette's resume what that means Is my job involves getting' mobbed like John Gotti Dressed to kill like I'm Gianni Versace But I gotta be so when a gimp limps back for more In a huff like that fat kid that had to sit out for Every gym class due to his asthma that wore One correctional shoe but still passed that I swore I spotted at the smorgasbord sprintin' for seconds That I reckon ain't as sloppy as the leftovers gettin' Me clocked by blocked cock pissed my tryst with his missus Got her panties in a bunch just like his is That my face between her legs? because that could be What convinced this dick getting' hard I'm a pussy But if that were my name I would have autographed her breasts with Motherfuckin' dollar signs instead of S's The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
Vulcanize the whoopee stick
In the ham wallet Cattle prod the oyster ditch With the lap rocket Batter dip the cranny ax In the gut locker Retrofit the pudding hatch Ooh la la With the boink swatter If i get you in the loop when I make a point to be straight with you then In lieu of the innuendo in the end know my intent though I brazillian wax poetic so hypothetically I don't wanna beat around the bush Foxtrot Unifrom Charlie Kilo Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Marinate the nether rod In the squish mitten Power drill the yippee bog With the dude piston Pressure wash the quiver bone In the bitch wrinkle Cannonball the fiddle cove Ooh la la With the pork steeple If i get you in the loop when I make a point to be straight with you then In lieu of the innuendo in the end know my intent though I brazillian wax poetic so hypothetically I don't wanna beat around the bush Foxtrot Unifrom Charlie Kilo Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Put the you know what in the you know where Put the you know what in the you know where Put the you know what in the you know where Put the you know what in the you know where pronto [출처] "Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo" - Bloodhound Gang |작성자 락현 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
It always sucks refolding the kind of map
Needed when I get stuck where the sun don't shine the fact Is if I just shut up, my rubbered stamp could flag you as dumb It ain't your mind you're givin' me a piece of As it don't take Einstein to know that's just obscene but It's been Buck Rogers time since I hit other than rock bottom Even the odds of having you against me With your crotchless jihad on blue balls evidently Are all mighty good god, so angel dust my soul like James Brown Street legal whore hauling so much stunning ass Sell yourself short like Bridget at the bunny ranch Do it all fours, the satisfaction of getting fouled I'm the least you could do If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do, oh yeah If only life were as easy as you I would still get screwed I don't care if getting under someone that's Beneath you fits the M.O. of conundrum as You reckoned this was just a fancy word for rubbers I aim to get a bang out of working your Weak spot that sets the bar so low just nerve can score With no respect, since, oddly, danger feels like pay dirt I'm the least you could do If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do, oh yeah If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do, oh yeah If only life were as easy as you If only When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
I know you're gonna play me when you get wind
I heard you're full of shit so I've been duped again But if you cover your ass with the same old song You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on I know you're gonna play me when you get wind I heard you're full of shit so I've been duped again But if you cover your ass with the same old song You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on I know you're gonna play me when you get wind I heard you're full of shit so I've been duped again But if you cover your ass with the same old song You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on Give me a fuckin' break Farting with a walkman on Farting with a walkman on Farting with a walkman on Farting with a walkman on |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
(On the phone)
I'm in the bathroom right now, so this message might sound like shit. (Shit's a bunch of times) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
I'm going to Africa Yes, Ma'am, I'm a brick Was President Lincoln ok? Mitten. There's a dog in the vent Chicken necks? I pick Ken Griffey Junior I fell out two times I'm pedalling backwards This snowflake tastes like fishsticks We're a totem pole Dying tickles I heard a Frankenstein lives there She's touching my special area Go banana! Ralphie, (Ralphie,) Get off, (Get off,) The stage, (The stage,) Sweetheart. (Sweetheart.) Oh say can you rock!? I'm a pop sensation! I'm a pop sensation! Salmon gutter!? I'm Idaho You smell like dead bunnies That's where I saw the leprachaun Fun toys are fun. Chocolate microscopes You're not it That is so nineteen-ninety-one I bit my tongue! Ralphie, (Ralphie,) Get off, (Get off,) The stage, (The stage,) Sweetheart. (Sweetheart.) Oh say can you rock!? I'm a pop sensation! I'm a pop sensation! Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj My sash says Ultraman! 가사입력NAKMUSE |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
Eventide rise for ritual With the thrill of a kill vengefully the engine will Roar forth steer the dead leave forced Driven by fear shift gears veer towards The foolishly equipped swift these Failed bids breathed taillights from the crypt Reflect upon the way beyond redemption Let the necronometer beckon for the destined Blessed when first lent sin then condemned to bear the burden Of this curse the consequence of which can never be averted Each tormented attempt that is made in vain To evade this debt which is certain to be paid Without question is met with a counterclocked surge In reverse as if backmasked words of the black mass were All heard by a clutch engaged Over trails blazed to the western gates Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side Something diabolical Idle hands are bound for the Damned once sam went down to georgia Speed was forged of the divine salt Mined from the vaults of flame by the lost Named as those sought as faults rests beneath The wrong that was spawned from the tired screech Of essence halted engulfed in the scent of exhaustion A false witness with the sensed end is brought To bended knees when abandoned belief in The mephistophelian plea for wicked unleashed sends Heed to reap grim an infernally decreed Reposession vested in the fallen called on to retrieve Meed with the fueled intention of deprived intervention The thundered calm that comes from the rattle of descension Numbs the panicked from a havoc that reeks of oil Barreling down this mortal coil Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side Something diabolical Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him To him To him To him To him 가사입력NAKMUSE |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
We are "cop rock" we are screech We are z. cavaricci We are laser removed Tasmanian devil tattoos We are third string we are puck We are special people's club We are the half shirts with Irreverent spring break top ten lists We are munsoned we are squat We are flashing twelve o'clock We are spread out butt cheeks Pulled apart so just the air leaks We are "ishtar" we are tab We are no right turn on red We are the moustaches The beatles grew when they dropped acid You are the heart dotting "i" In the word "apologize" Scribbled drunk on a postcard Sent from somewhere volcanoes are I am the heart with no name Airbrushed on the license plate Of a subaru that was Registered in pennsylvania We are zima we are barf We are cinderblock yard art We are baldwin brothers Not the good one but the others We are amway we are shemp We are sir david of brent We are the queef after A porn star breaks the gang bang record You are the heart dotting "i" In the word "apologize" Scribbled drunk on a postcard Sent from somewhere volcanoes are I am the heart with no name Airbrushed on the license plate Of a subaru that was Registered in pennsylvania Do you even know what a wawa is? girl Do you even know what a wawa is? Do you even know what a wawa is? girl Do you even know what a wawa is? I'm in a state of p fuckin' a 가사입력NAKMUSE |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Otto Ackermann, Lovro Von Matacic - Four Last Songs Etc (2004)
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby
Dog will hunt, I'm the front end loader Travoltin' over So try my slam on for size Drive stick, with that kung fu grip Let the banana split And watch it go right to your thighs Cop a feel Copperfield style Abracadabra that bra do ya think I can pull it off Wanna bang around Just jot me down on your to-do list Under "Put Out Like A Fire" 'cause I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby Edible strange How do I get In your pants when You're tick tockin' them Serious Levis So tight can't be classified That's why I'm here to fill that opening Make a seasoned pass To mount that ass And Bob Hope that I might one night stand a chance Let's go Feng Shui fuck Around my digs like a Superball Bring that sunny side up and I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss |
|||||
 |
|
9:15 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Maybe you got screwed but I dumped you 'cause you ain't nothin' but trash I put out despite the fact that you're like a Hawaiian Punch moustache Right under my nose thinking I'm so Colonel Klink oblivious But how could I Nazi? You got off scot-free 'cause I know this means it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore If I wanna be repeatedly shit on I'll go make Dutch porn When roughly translated even your naked truth means squat and what's more I'm missing you like a hijacked flight on September 11th I don't know who got on you but I'm not wrong in thanking them since it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore anymore anymore Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up |
|||||
 |
|
3:53 |
|
||
|
from Scary Movie (무서운 영화) by David Kitay [ost] (2000)
Like my scrotum here it is in a nutshell One thousand nine hundred and seventy-two That's the year I got here when my dear mother's water blew Not really realizing the prize that's been begot to her The bona fide lo-fi high-octane philosopher Genius with a penis the few the proud the me I liked me so much I had to buy the company Soul for sale sold to Satan for a hell of a lotta luck I'm hard to come by like a straight guy working at Starbucks Thank the thinkers that think they thunk the thoughts that theorized Idolized or despised bet I'm gettin' recognized Mount Rushmore it? No ignore it can't rock with no big head Half of the people want me half of the people want me dead I am the Angel of Def with my rhymes against humanity Teeter-tottering between brilliance and insanity The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope It's the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope Conclusions you drew proportions you blew Lost son of Iggy? False Bigger nose than Ziggy? True Yes my name is Jimmy Pop no my pop's name is Dick Don't admit to kick it slick you thick derelict critic Put down for missed notes put up with misquotes Don't want the whole story? Should have bought the Cliff Notes Like Fingerpainting give me no credit for having class One thumb on the pulse of the nation one thumb in your girlfriend's ass Written on written off scoff callin' me a joke I don't think that I'm a sell-out but I do "Enjoy Coke!" I struck gold but never took it for granite that's how I planned it so can it Around the planet fans demand it and you'll never understand it When I die no lie plan on mass pandemonium They may display my brain in a pickle jar at the Smithsonian The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope It's the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope |
|||||
 |
|
5:13 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - No Hard Feelings [single] (2006)
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Maybe you got screwed but I dumped you 'cause you ain't nothin' but trash I put out despite the fact that you're like a Hawaiian Punch moustache Right under my nose thinking I'm so Colonel Klink oblivious But how could I Nazi? You got off scot-free 'cause I know this means it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore If I wanna be repeatedly shit on I'll go make Dutch porn When roughly translated even your naked truth means squat and what's more I'm missing you like a hijacked flight on September 11th I don't know who got on you but I'm not wrong in thanking them since it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore anymore anymore Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up |
|||||
|
|
3:37 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - No Hard Feelings [single] (2006)
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Maybe you got screwed but I dumped you 'cause you ain't nothin' but trash I put out despite the fact that you're like a Hawaiian Punch moustache Right under my nose thinking I'm so Colonel Klink oblivious But how could I Nazi? You got off scot-free 'cause I know this means it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore If I wanna be repeatedly shit on I'll go make Dutch porn When roughly translated even your naked truth means squat and what's more I'm missing you like a hijacked flight on September 11th I don't know who got on you but I'm not wrong in thanking them since it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore anymore anymore Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up |
|||||
|
|
4:03 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - No Hard Feelings [single] (2006)
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Maybe you got screwed but I dumped you 'cause you ain't nothin' but trash I put out despite the fact that you're like a Hawaiian Punch moustache Right under my nose thinking I'm so Colonel Klink oblivious But how could I Nazi? You got off scot-free 'cause I know this means it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore If I wanna be repeatedly shit on I'll go make Dutch porn When roughly translated even your naked truth means squat and what's more I'm missing you like a hijacked flight on September 11th I don't know who got on you but I'm not wrong in thanking them since it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore anymore anymore Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up |
|||||
|
|
3:24 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - No Hard Feelings [single] (2006)
Ain't my job
To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Maybe you got screwed but I dumped you 'cause you ain't nothin' but trash I put out despite the fact that you're like a Hawaiian Punch moustache Right under my nose thinking I'm so Colonel Klink oblivious But how could I Nazi? You got off scot-free 'cause I know this means it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore If I wanna be repeatedly shit on I'll go make Dutch porn When roughly translated even your naked truth means squat and what's more I'm missing you like a hijacked flight on September 11th I don't know who got on you but I'm not wrong in thanking them since it Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday Ain't my job To fuck you on your birthday anymore anymore anymore Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Maybe it ain't your birthday but then again Ya know I wouldn't give a fuck When what I shoulda got is over ya sooner so now I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday I'm just gonna wrap it up Ain't my job I'm just gonna wrap it up To fuck you on your birthday anymore I'm just gonna wrap it up |
|||||
|
|
3:03 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
The only thing going down in this car is the windo 'cause your pussy stank!
|
|||||
|
|
0:11 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
(Jimmy Pop:) Eminem's gotta cuss in his raps to sell records, well me too, so f**k Will Smith!
(DJ Q-Ball:) That don't rhyme. (Jimmy Pop:) Drats. (both laugh) |
|||||
|
|
4:19 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
Potent is the flow which is wicked sick
So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick Potent is the flow which is wicked sick So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick I don't give a shit about celebrity But motherfuckers did ya happen to see who's here? me The bottom feeder at the top of the food chain Frontin' from the back of the line on some dude named After car parts that as fast as a spark hitting gas Starts a fire gets wired from barbs that Cut like a jalapeno popper fart Burnin' up an asshole that once ripped apart Punched hard but it ain't like I ever cared if I went Too far as stitches left scars from more clowns bent Outta shape than the Cirque du Soleil ever had so Though he throws his weight around he's still in my shadow In the dark so he doesn't know his girl remarked that I make her Laugh on the inside but I can hear it later With my dick as her other cunt gets screwed In the process I got to get hot chicks nude The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Potent is the flow which is wicked sick So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick Potent is the flow which is wicked sick So hos of those that pounce bounce slow on the dick Thanks to you bitches I got more screams Than David Arquette's resume what that means Is my job involves getting' mobbed like John Gotti Dressed to kill like I'm Gianni Versace But I gotta be so when a gimp limps back for more In a huff like that fat kid that had to sit out for Every gym class due to his asthma that wore One correctional shoe but still passed that I swore I spotted at the smorgasbord sprintin' for seconds That I reckon ain't as sloppy as the leftovers gettin' Me clocked by blocked cock pissed my tryst with his missus Got her panties in a bunch just like his is That my face between her legs? because that could be What convinced this dick getting' hard I'm a pussy But if that were my name I would have autographed her breasts with Motherfuckin' dollar signs instead of S's The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches The payback is cum in fools' circles if it's Those turnin' on those turnin' on the bitches Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up Balls out my life is a slut This dick don't hit the bottom but I fuck the sides up |
|||||
|
|
2:52 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
Vulcanize the whoopee stick
In the ham wallet Cattle prod the oyster ditch With the lap rocket Batter dip the cranny ax In the gut locker Retrofit the pudding hatch Ooh la la With the boink swatter If i get you in the loop when I make a point to be straight with you then In lieu of the innuendo in the end know my intent though I brazillian wax poetic so hypothetically I don't wanna beat around the bush Foxtrot Unifrom Charlie Kilo Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Marinate the nether rod In the squish mitten Power drill the yippee bog With the dude piston Pressure wash the quiver bone In the bitch wrinkle Cannonball the fiddle cove Ooh la la With the pork steeple If i get you in the loop when I make a point to be straight with you then In lieu of the innuendo in the end know my intent though I brazillian wax poetic so hypothetically I don't wanna beat around the bush Foxtrot Unifrom Charlie Kilo Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Put the you know what in the you know where Put the you know what in the you know where Put the you know what in the you know where Put the you know what in the you know where pronto |
|||||
|
|
3:58 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
It always sucks refolding the kind of map
Needed when I get stuck where the sun don't shine the fact Is if I just shut up, my rubbered stamp could flag you as dumb It ain't your mind you're givin' me a piece of As it don't take Einstein to know that's just obscene but It's been Buck Rogers time since I hit other than rock bottom Even the odds of having you against me With your crotchless jihad on blue balls evidently Are all mighty good god, so angel dust my soul like James Brown Street legal whore hauling so much stunning ass Sell yourself short like Bridget at the bunny ranch Do it all fours, the satisfaction of getting fouled I'm the least you could do If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do, oh yeah If only life were as easy as you I would still get screwed I don't care if getting under someone that's Beneath you fits the M.O. of conundrum as You reckoned this was just a fancy word for rubbers I aim to get a bang out of working your Weak spot that sets the bar so low just nerve can score With no respect, since, oddly, danger feels like pay dirt I'm the least you could do If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do, oh yeah If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do If only life were as easy as you I'm the least you could do, oh yeah If only life were as easy as you If only When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? When my fumbling breaks you should I thank your dad for the damaged goods? |
|||||
|
|
3:27 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
I know you're gonna play me when you get wind
I heard you're full of shit so I've been duped again But if you cover your ass with the same old song You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on I know you're gonna play me when you get wind I heard you're full of shit so I've been duped again But if you cover your ass with the same old song You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on I know you're gonna play me when you get wind I heard you're full of shit so I've been duped again But if you cover your ass with the same old song You might as well be farting farting with a walkman on Give me a fuckin' break Farting with a walkman on Farting with a walkman on Farting with a walkman on Farting with a walkman on |
|||||
|
|
0:24 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
(On the phone)
I'm in the bathroom right now, so this message might sound like shit. (Shit's a bunch of times) |
|||||
|
|
2:53 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
I'm going to Africa
Yes, Ma'am, I'm a brick Was President Lincoln ok? Mitten. There's a dog in the vent Chicken necks? I pick Ken Griffey Junior I fell out two times I'm pedalling backwards This snowflake tastes like fishsticks We're a totem pole Dying tickles I heard a Frankenstein lives there She's touching my special area Go banana! Ralphie, (Ralphie,) Get off, (Get off,) The stage, (The stage,) Sweetheart. (Sweetheart.) Oh say can you rock!? I'm a pop sensation! I'm a pop sensation! Salmon gutter!? I'm Idaho You smell like dead bunnies That's where I saw the leprachaun Fun toys are fun. Chocolate microscopes You're not it That is so nineteen-ninety-one I bit my tongue! Ralphie, (Ralphie,) Get off, (Get off,) The stage, (The stage,) Sweetheart. (Sweetheart.) Oh say can you rock!? I'm a pop sensation! I'm a pop sensation! Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj Yvan eht Nioj My sash says Ultraman! |
|||||
|
|
5:10 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
Eventide rise for ritual
With the thrill of a kill vengefully the engine will Roar forth steer the dead leave forced Driven by fear shift gears veer towards The foolishly equipped swift these Failed bids breathed taillights from the crypt Reflect upon the way beyond redemption Let the necronometer beckon for the destined Blessed when first lent sin then condemned to bear the burden Of this curse the consequence of which can never be averted Each tormented attempt that is made in vain To evade this debt which is certain to be paid Without question is met with a counterclocked surge In reverse as if backmasked words of the black mass were All heard by a clutch engaged Over trails blazed to the western gates Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side Something diabolical Idle hands are bound for the Damned once sam went down to georgia Speed was forged of the divine salt Mined from the vaults of flame by the lost Named as those sought as faults rests beneath The wrong that was spawned from the tired screech Of essence halted engulfed in the scent of exhaustion A false witness with the sensed end is brought To bended knees when abandoned belief in The mephistophelian plea for wicked unleashed sends Heed to reap grim an infernally decreed Reposession vested in the fallen called on to retrieve Meed with the fueled intention of deprived intervention The thundered calm that comes from the rattle of descension Numbs the panicked from a havoc that reeks of oil Barreling down this mortal coil Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Heaven may be running on empty yet the devil rides Hell burns by angel turns her pillow to the cooler side Something diabolical Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him Tonight belongs to him To him To him To him To him |
|||||
|
|
2:57 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
We are ""cop rock"" we are screech
We are z. cavaricci We are laser removed Tasmanian devil tattoos We are third string we are puck We are special people's club We are the half shirts with Irreverent spring break top ten lists We are munsoned we are squat We are flashing twelve o'clock We are spread out butt cheeks Pulled apart so just the air leaks We are ""ishtar"" we are tab We are no right turn on red We are the moustaches The beatles grew when they dropped acid You are the heart dotting ""i"" In the word ""apologize"" Scribbled drunk on a postcard Sent from somewhere volcanoes are I am the heart with no name Airbrushed on the license plate Of a subaru that was Registered in pennsylvania We are zima we are barf We are cinderblock yard art We are baldwin brothers Not the good one but the others We are amway we are shemp We are sir david of brent We are the queef after A porn star breaks the gang bang record You are the heart dotting ""i"" In the word ""apologize"" Scribbled drunk on a postcard Sent from somewhere volcanoes are I am the heart with no name Airbrushed on the license plate Of a subaru that was Registered in pennsylvania Do you even know what a wawa is? girl Do you even know what a wawa is? Do you even know what a wawa is? girl Do you even know what a wawa is? I'm in a state of p fuckin' a |
|||||
|
|
4:20 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby
Dog will hunt, I'm the front end loader Travoltin' over So try my slam on for size Drive stick, with that kung fu grip Let the banana split And watch it go right to your thighs Cop a feel Copperfield style Abracadabra that bra do ya think I can pull it off Wanna bang around Just jot me down on your to-do list Under "Put Out Like A Fire" 'cause I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby Edible strange How do I get In your pants when You're tick tockin' them Serious Levis So tight can't be classified That's why I'm here to fill that opening Make a seasoned pass To mount that ass And Bob Hope that I might one night stand a chance Let's go Feng Shui fuck Around my digs like a Superball Bring that sunny side up and I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss I got somethin' and it goes thumpin' like this All you need is my uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss Baby uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss |
|||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hefty Fine (2005)
This is bam, and hidden track shit dicks out!
|
|||||
 |
|
3:40 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
You must die I alone am best! I hope ya flip some guy the bird He cuts you off and you're forced to swerve In front of the Beatles' tour bus A Bookmobile and a Mack truck Hauling hazardous biological waste The light turns red you have no brakes And "Hard Copy" gets it all on tape So you can see the look on your face Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die I hope your Pinto begins to spin Takes out a disabled Vietnam Veteran Mows down a Nobel Peace Prize Winner And maybe some orphans having Christmas dinner Perhaps even the British Royal Family And the Rabbi that's clutching the bottle-fed puppy And we can't forget the newlyweds And those Jerry's Kids are as good as dead I hope this helps to emphasize I hope this helps to clarify I hope you die I hope your cellmate thinks he's God But C.N.N. refer to him as "Bowling Ball Bag Bob" Serving time again for abuse of a corpse Only this time the victim's a Clydesdale horse While he masturbates to photos of livestock He does the "Silence of the Lambs" dance to Christian Rock Eats feces and quotes from "Deliverance" And fights with his imaginary playmate Vince Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die I hope he grins like Jack Nicholson And forces you to play a game called "Balls On Chin" And whatever happens next is all a blur But you remember "fist" can be a verb And when you finally regain consciousness You're bound and gagged in a wedding dress And the prison guard looks the other way 멌ause he's the guy ya flipped the bird the other day I hope this helps to emphasize I hope this helps to clarify I hope you die I hope you die |
|||||
|
|
4:03 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Like my scrotum here it is in a nutshell One thousand nine hundred and seventy-two That's the year I got here when my dear mother's water blew Not really realizing the prize that's been begot to her The bona fide lo-fi high-octane philosopher Genius with a penis the few the proud the me I liked me so much I had to buy the company Soul for sale sold to Satan for a hell of a lotta luck I'm hard to come by like a straight guy working at Starbucks Thank the thinkers that think they thunk the thoughts that theorized Idolized or despised bet I'm gettin' recognized Mount Rushmore it? No ignore it can't rock with no big head Half of the people want me half of the people want me dead I am the Angel of Def with my rhymes against humanity Teeter-tottering between brilliance and insanity The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope It's the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope Conclusions you drew proportions you blew Lost son of Iggy? False Bigger nose than Ziggy? True Yes my name is Jimmy Pop no my pop's name is Dick Don't admit to kick it slick you thick derelict critic Put down for missed notes put up with misquotes Don't want the whole story? Should have bought the Cliff Notes Like Fingerpainting give me no credit for having class One thumb on the pulse of the nation one thumb in your girlfriend's ass Written on written off scoff callin' me a joke I don't think that I'm a sell-out but I do "Enjoy Coke!" I struck gold but never took it for granite that's how I planned it so can it Around the planet fans demand it and you'll never understand it When I die no lie plan on mass pandemonium They may display my brain in a pickle jar at the Smithsonian The one part the Fuehrer the one part the Pope It's the inevitable return baby of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope One part the Fuehrer one part the Pope The inevitable return of the Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope Great White Dope |
|||||
|
|
0:35 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Hello Frank,
Hello mother dear Hi, Jim what are you doin' I am trying to think of words that rhyme with vagina Oh, lima? Like lima beans How about that, that teenage witch, Sabrina No, that's a made up-word, Jim What if you change the word vagina to something else Like box or pussy or cunt. No, Jim........ |
|||||
|
|
3:55 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
My last girlfriend didn't like me thought she might be
Most likely a dyke she just didn't excite me Lefty? Yeah but that was alright She was hotter than the sun but she just wasn't that bright My mistake she was more flaky than a leper colony I think a wooden clothespin would have been much better company Ass like a donkey actin' funky gave her L now she's a flunky So my love for her died quicker than a batch of Sea Monkeys Early bird gets the worm spread your legs or spread the word So what if I'm not the smartest peanut in the turd I'm white which goes with everything but I can come in any color And I'm looking for the kind of girl that reminds me of my mother But it's hard to find a girl with a viper tattooed on her tushy And how many girls do you know that can play the harmonica with their pussies? Like 'em easy and hot and sweet like a Rice Krispie Treat gee You know what I really want in a girl? Me I need to find a new vagina Any kind of new vagina It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina Calvin Klein? Kind of North Carolina Women are like dog doo hear me through don't interrupt It's just the older that they are the easier they get to pick up I'd fill the generation gap clean the cobwebs from her rafters Old hens would rather put out than be put out to the pasture No age just ain't a gauge I like my girls like my cheese Preferably for me fat-free American singles only I want my next chick anorexic the winner is the thinner Won't have to take her skinny ass out to a fancy dinner Like Sizzler she got a beef we'll chew the fat If I forget to put the seat up I can put up with her crap Let her lash out and crack the whip but not in bed I don't play rough No I can't be tied down with a girl that wants me tied up Just independent like NOFX smart like Janeane Garafolo She'd use big words to make fun of me so that I would never know Bestow upon me all her wisdom of the Dewey Decimal System gee You know what I really want in a girl? Me I need to find a new vagina Any kind of new vagina It's hard to rhyme a word like vagina Kevin Kline? Kind of South Carolina Vagina Vagina Vagina Vagina Vagina Vagina Vagina Vagina |
|||||
|
|
4:37 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
We gonna drop this next bomb for a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo. Yeah, Notorious B.I.G. Hell no, we gonna do this for a gangbanging thug that never seen it comin'. Yeah, Tupac Shakur. Nah bitch, I'm talkin' 멳out motherfuckin' Falco and shit. What? Falco? Rock me Amadeus Rock me Amadeus Rock me Amadeus Rock me Amadeus Tried to O.D. on the Cold-Eeze "Golden Girls" got me "Sweatin' To The Oldies" Hanging out like Double Ds sip Long Island Iced Teas Wrote to Mayor McCheese "Send a Shamrock Shake please!" Three O' Clock on the dot time to cruise for Eighth graders Rather tape the Weather Channel so that I can watch it later Reruns of Rerun so "What's Happening?" Dee's knocked up and Rog on crack again Deep throat a whole Nutty Buddy Make whoopie to a batch of Silly Putty Make a Spam and Colgate sandwich and ate it Go through "National Geographic" and draw panties on the natives So I like to dance naked in front of my pets But my cat was inattentive so I sent him U.P.S. Playin' spin the bottle with my mom I watch "Cops" with no pants on Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes Deader than the parents on a "Party of Five" Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill Not going nowhere slim chance we will Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Nowhere to go I can't wake up late Just sit around and wait for my Old Spice to activate Stalemate jailbait in "My So-Called Life" imprisonment Amazing what a good breakfast pickles make isn't it? I like to pretend I'm speed reading Never lose the sight of the thrill of sneezing Don't need a shower today just some Brut by Faberge Smell the ass of my jeans clean they'll do another day And I recycle I sniff my own farts I dial the wrong number hope a conversation starts I mean I might as well be listenin' to Journey Givin' myself a mullet hook the Flowbee to the Kirby Make a prank call pretendin' I'm a mime Get stuck in traffic just to pass the time Sent a letter in the mail in Braille to Johnny Quest Send me back my Etch-A-Sketch Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes Deader than the parents on a "Party of Five" Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill Not going nowhere slim chance we will Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum I'm mighty tighty whitey and I'm smugglin' plums When you wanna cum Yo yo yo yo yo! What it is motherfuckers? Aw shit, here comes Pac-Man. Hey Pac-Man, what's up? Me you bitches! I'm high on crack! Wanna freebase? No Pac-Man drugs are bad! Nope can't help you man. Pussies. Whoa! Holy shit! Must've blown a fuse nothing's going on Lamer than the Pope climb the walls like King Kong Buggin' out like Tori Spelling's eyes Deader than the parents on a "Party of Five" Luciano Pavoratti on a treadmill Not going nowhere slim chance we will Less hip than Bo Jackson bored like wood Dick around like Frankie Goes To Hollywood Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Relax don't do it when you wanna go to it Relax don't do it when you wanna cum Holy macaroni Holy macaroni Holy macaroni Holy macaroni |
|||||
|
|
3:49 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Yummy down on yummy down on this down on
Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Ouch it won't reach my mouth If I could do it myself I'd probably never leave the house But I can't so here's where you come in Giving it ""Diff'rent Strokes"" just like Arnold Drummond Hummin?hmm hmm good like Campbell's And you'll handle the sack like the quarterback Randall Cunningham like Joanie loves Chachi They call him Ralph Mouth 멵ause he's down on Potsie Rocky chasing the chicken Watch the plot thicken with the cock when your lickin? Me like Apollo your Creed my Mission You go down for the count I countdown ignition Blast off you're a rocket scientist A genius what I mean is you suck at this So escargot 멵ause my snail needs Frenchin? You must be five stars cause my staff's at full attention Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Yummy down on yummy down on this down on Dinner for one I know you got your reservations Starvation like a Third World Nation So do it for the children and I'll make a donation My fly's in your eyes let me rise to the occasion In my Underoos I tend to be brief So when you're sinking your teeth deep into my beef You can fondle but it's kind of like McDonald's realize it's Just a Happy Meal so you can't Super Size it Told to hold the pickle then you went and blew it Gherkin off and the Special Sauce comes included But you knew it did so concentrate like Tropicana To eat a Chiquita you need to grow the banana So can ya Bob like Dylan on my Peter like Criss 멦il it's Chubby like Checker c'mon baby do the twist It's all in the wrist like table tennis So beat me like Betty Crocker cake mix Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Yummy down on this down on this down on this Suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it Suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it Suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it Suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it suck it If you were a Hindu I could aim for the dot Yummy down on this Yummy down on this Yummy down on this throbbing pole of hot man chicken. And feel free to wiggledunk those purple bulldog cheeks. |
|||||
|
|
2:22 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Dear Chasey Lain I wrote to explain I'm your biggest fan I just wanted to ask Could I eat your ass? Write back as soon as you can You've had a lotta dick Had a lotta dick I've had a lotta time Had a lotta time You've had a lotta dick Chasey But you ain't had mine Dear Chasey Lain I wrote to complain Ya never wrote me back How could I ever eat Your ass when ya treat Your biggest fan like that? You've had a lotta dick Had a lotta dick I've had a lotta time Had a lotta time You've had a lotta dick Chasey But you ain't had mine Dear Chasey Lain I wrote to constrain This letter is my last As your biggest fan I must demand You let me eat your ass You've had a lotta dick Had a lotta dick I've had a lotta time Had a lotta time You've had a lotta dick Chasey But you ain't had mine P.S. Mom and Dad this is Chasey Chasey this is my mom and dad Now show 멷m them titties Now show 멷m them titties P.S. Mom and Dad this is Chasey Chasey this is my mom and dad Now show 멷m them titties Now show 멷m them titties Would ya fuck me for blow? |
|||||
|
|
0:16 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
[sigh] Uhh.. that was creepy. I would rather slurp rancid tuna salad out uv my own ass, or scour my boobies off with a rusty sos pad, or hump a piece of splintered balsa wood [giggle] |
|||||
|
|
4:01 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Why try? I'm that guy
Holden Caulfield from Catcher In The Rye Put away 'cause he wasn't all there Like a jigsaw puzzle you might compare Me to him not a liver but wurst Been much better off as a still birth Big let down unparalleled Like the last episode of Seinfeld Or Jack Lemmon in Glengarry Glen Ross Pepsi Challenge took it lost Just fizzed out with my wires crossed Buttons pushed but never went off Like Martha I will self-destruct The name's Dunnstock it's not Dumptruck Just cursed as fuck with no such luck My future plans include not much Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be nothin' more than me Always gonna be always gonna be always gonna always gonna be most likely to suck Wanna be a Ghostbuster First black President owner of Hustler Got shot down like Larry Flynt Felt like shit like a bowel movement Have you seen my will to live? Because I seem to have lost it Lovelife? No but Mom thinks I'm handsome Couldn't get off if I held a pimp for ransom Feel like Jimmy Stewart no one sees my Harvey Toxic Shock Syndrome gets more girls than me Like Pee Wee Herman spermin' I can See the future in the palm of my hand Psychic Friends Network loser Large phone bill in my very near future Dealt nothing and bluffing hard Play poker with a joker and some Uno cards Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be nothin' more than me Never gonna be never gonna be never gonna never gonna be nothin' more than me Always gonna be always gonna be always gonna always gonna be most likely to suck Most likely to suck Most likely to suck Most likely to suck Most likely to suck Most likely to suck |
|||||
|
|
4:21 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Ha ha well now We call this the act of mating But there are several other very important differences between human beings and animals that you should know about I'd appreciate your input Sweat baby sweat baby sex is a Texas drought me and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about So put your hands down my pants and I'll bet you'll feel nuts Yes I'm Siskel yes I'm Ebert and you're getting two thumbs up You've had enough of two hand touch you want it rough you're out of bounds I want to you smothered want you covered like my Waffle House hash browns Come quicker than Fed Ex never reaching apex like Coca Cola stock you are inclined to make me rise an hour early just like Daylight Savings Time You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel gettin' horny now Love the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket Like the lost catacombs of Egypt only God knows where we stuck it Hieroglyphics Let me be Pacific I wanna be down in your South Seas But I got this notion that the motion of your ocean means small craft advisory So if I capsize in your thighs high tide B 5 you sunk my battle ship Please turn me on I'm Mr Coffee with an automatic drip So show me yours I'll show you mine Tool Time you'll Lovett just like Lyle And then we'll do it doggie style so we can both watch X Files You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel gettin' horny now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel do it again now You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel gettin' horny now |
|||||
|
|
0:15 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
3:08 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Did you ever read Voltaire's Candide?
He says live life at Benny Hill freak out speed Not a quote of what he wrote but a paraphrase Make it up as you go Keyser Soze Highlights yes but don't underline 'em Just live for N.O.W. like Gloria Steinem Life is like Marion Berry It's not all that it's cracked up to be Like Fred Sanford when the big one comes Find the meaning of life is there is none It's twenty-four hours when you call it a day Be Frank and say I did it My Way Don't give a Flying Nun no don't give a Gidget Just have more fun than a well-oiled midget If life were picture perfect you could frame it But the world is a diaper so let someone else change it Life is an aimless drive that ya take alone Might as well enjoy the ride take the long way home All born equal unless you're Canadian Then halfway through decay like Uranium You define what's death defying Get the most out of life or at the least die trying Are you Evil Knievel jumpin' a train? Or runnin' with scissors like Frasier Crane? Have really good times doin' really bad things 'Cause the show ain't over 'til the fat lady sings Like Elton John with his Candle In The Wind It's hard to blow out a flame as big as him But we've all got to Wang Chung with the Grim Reaper Whether you're Einstein whether you're Beaker Death is certain so it's definitely worth flirtin' Don't expect a bright light no just curtains Life is like a penis most people don't know it But most people suck so they usually blow it Life is an aimless drive that ya take alone Might as well enjoy the ride take the long way home Life is an aimless drive that ya take alone Might as well enjoy the ride take the long way home |
|||||
|
|
5:02 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Alright now boys and girls, we've got another story for you now.
We want to introduce to you another friend of the Bible. Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah If I were God there would be no explicit sex on T.V. Like little Opie eating pie when he made it with Aunt Bea If I were God thou shall not worship false Billy Idols And thou shall add the Book Of Flavor Flav to the Bible Thou shall make fun of Hindus thou shall not make a speed 2 If I were God that's what I'd do heavens no Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah If I were God I'd get a bunch of slaves to do everything Norwegian lesbians that feed me grapes and know how to sing If I were God thou shall not wear tube socks with Flip-Flops Thou shall sit and thou shall spin thou shall even wife swap Thou shall resist the Olsen Twins thou shall not cut Footloose If I were God that's what I'd do heavens no Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah Hell yeah And when they nail my pimpled ass to the cross I'll tell them I found Jesus that should throw them off He goes by the name Jesus and steals hubcaps from cars Oh Jesus can I borrow your crowbar? To pry these God damn nails out they're beginning to hurt Crucified and all I got was this lousy T-shirt I Can't Believe It's Not Butter I'll sing as I'm flogged Yeah that's what I would do if I were God So vote for me for Savior and you'll go to heaven Your lame duck Lord is like Kevin Spacey in Seven With creepy threats of H-E-Double-Hockey-Stick You just can't teach an old God new tricks But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? Just sport some crummy holier than thou facade Yeah that's what I would do if I were God |
|||||
|
|
0:10 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
How do you let someone know if your hot cakes are selling well?
|
|||||
|
|
5:38 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
I was lonelier than Kunta Kinte at a Merle Haggard concert
That night I strolled on into Uncle Limpy's Hump Palace lookin' for love. It had been a while. In fact, three hundred and sixty-five had come and went since that midnight run haulin' hog to Shakey Town on I-10. I had picked up this hitchhiker that was sweatin' gallons through a pair of Daisy Duke cut-offs and one of those Fruit Of The Loom tank-tops. Well, that night I lost myself to ruby red lips, milky white skin and baby blue eyes. Name was Russell. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well, faster than you can say, "shallow grave", this pretty little thing come up to me and starts kneadin' my balls like hard-boiled eggs in a tube sock. Said her name was Bambi and I said, "Well that's a coincidence darlin', 'cause I was just thinkin' about skinnin' you like a deer." Well she smiled, had about as much teeth as a Jack-O-Lantern, and I went on to tell her how I would wear her face like a mask as I do my little kooky dance. And then she told me to shush. I guess she could sense my desperation. 'Course, it's hard to hide a hard-on when you're dressed like Minnie Pearl. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' So, Bambi's goin' on about how she can make all my fantasies come true. So I says, "Even this one I have where Jesus Christ is jackhammering Mickey Mouse in the doo-doo hole with a lawn dart as Garth Brooks gives birth to something resembling a cheddar cheese log with almonds on Santa Claus's tummy-tum?" Well, ten beers, twenty minutes and thirty dollars later I'm parkin' the beef bus in tuna town if you know what I mean. Got to nail her back at her trailer. Heh. That rhymes. I have to admit it was even more of a turn-on when I found out she was doin' me to buy baby formula. Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Day or so had passed when I popped the clutch, gave the tranny a spin and slid on into The Stinky Pinky Gulp N' Guzzle Big Rig Snooze-A-Stop. There I was browsin' through the latest issue of "Throb", when I saw Bambi starin' at me from the back of a milk carton. Well, my heart just dropped. So, I decided to do what any good Christian would. You can not imagine how difficult it is to hold a half gallon of moo juice and polish the one-eyed gopher when you're doin' seventy-five in an eighteen-wheeler. I never thought missing children could be so sexy. Did I say that out loud? Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' Well I find it's quite a thrill When she grinds me against her will Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin' |
|||||
|
|
0:11 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
3:25 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000)
Every time I think that I'm
The only one who's lonely someone Calls on me And every now and then I spend My time at rhyme and verse and curse those Faults in me And then along comes Mary Mary, Mary Then along comes Mary Mary, Mary And does she want to give me kicks And be my steady chick and give me pick Of memories? Or maybe rather gather tales from all the Fails and tribulations no one Ever sees? When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch When vague desire is the fire in The eyes of chicks whose sickness is the Games they play And when the masquerade is played and neighbor Folks make jokes as who is most to Blame today And then along comes Mary Mary, Mary Then along comes Mary Mary, Mary And does she want to set them free And let them see reality from where she Got her name? And will they struggle much when told that such A tender touch of hers will make them Not the same? When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch And when the morning of the warning's passed The gassed and flaccid kids are flung Across the stars The psychodramas and the traumas gone The songs are left unsung and hung Upon the scars And then along comes Mary Mary, Mary Then along comes Mary Mary, Mary And does she want to see the stains the Dead remains of all the pains she left the Night before? Or will their wakin' eyes reflect the lies And make them realize their urgent cry for Sight no more? When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch When we met I was sure out to lunch Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch Sweet as the punch |
|||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
0:5 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
|
|
3:37 |
|
||
| from Bloodhound Gang - Hooray For Boobies (2000) | |||||
 |
|
3:05 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
Do you still go to raves? Do you think that Christ saves? Do you spend your days in a Purple Haze? Do you contemplate what a grape nut is? Or could you live drinkin' your own whiz? Are you hooked on a feeling are you hooked on gin-n-tonics? Are you hooked on fistin are you hooked on phonics? Did you ever have sex with a box of Kleenex? Did you like the movie Malcolm X? Or do you own a record by Stryper? Do you have a Mongoloid cousin wearin' diapers? Were you born and raised in New Jersey? Did you like the taste of Crystal Pepsi? Are you deaf? Well if you are you can't hear me But what's the use of living if your ear's be? Broken even if I spoke clearly You're still not able to hear me Cause life is a game that no one wins But you deserve a headstart the way your life's goin' So throw in the towel cause your life ain't shit No take that towel and hang yourself with it Life's short and hard like a body-building elf So save the planet and kill yourself If you're feeling down-and-out with what your life's all about Lift your head up and blow your brains out Lift your head up high and blow your brains out Does your girlfriend look like the chick from M A S H? Dead ringer for Klinger with a thicker mustache? When you're at a get-together does everybody always ask? Ain't no Halloween party why's she wearin' that mask? Does she got more Chins than the Chinese phone book? Would you rather make out with a rusty fish hook? Does she stick to linoleum when she squats? Does she look pregnant although she's not? Did you first see your boyfriend on Cops? Or at a Star Trek convention or on top? Of your |
|||||
|
|
4:58 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
I'm Jimmy Pop here in a jiffy heat me up and add oil I'm like a zit a wart a corn a cyst a festering boil I get under your skin and I sebaceously form I'm as deep as the plot to an amateur gay porn Keep ya hungry for more like Bangladesh Then I'll borg di borg do borg ya like the Swedish Chef Cause I'm one of a kind and kind of hard to find Kind of like an Injun without his fire water wine I'm like Schneider one day at a time I'm feeling like Bob Vila nailing up your behind To my wall like Daniel-son does I'm waxing on I'm waxing off I'm waxing just because I get wired like a Western Union and I got to be me And I got more balls than the daily lottery Like hemorrhoidal itch yo you can't ignore me Cause I'm more tongue and cheek than a lesbo orgy And I don't give a damn if you don't like me Cause' I don't like you cause you're not like me Second is different from the first I'm Jimmy Pop I am Jimmity Jimmity Pop I am I am See my name's not Hoover and I don't give a damn And I got a different angle like a parallelogram And you'll be all ears like a field of corn I'll make you Dizzy like Gillespie as I toot my own horn Like a No. 2 pencil I always got a point You'll want to share it with friends like a poorly rolled joint I'm Jimmy Pop y'all I'm Jimmy Pop y'all I'm an Alka Seltzer that's right you're a seagull As I continue to expand your head is gonna burst Leave a bad taste in your mouth like moldy Liverwurst Like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre I'll get in your face But then I'll brush you off like Aqua-Fresh toothpaste Cause I'm letting off stea |
|||||
|
|
4:52 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
The roof the roof the roof is on fire We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn Burn motherfucker burn Hello my name is Jimmy Pop and I'm a dumb white guy I'm not old or new but middle school fifth grade like junior high So I don't know mofo if y'all peeps be buggin' give props to my ho cause she all fly But I can take the heat cause I'm the other white meat known as 'Kid Funky Fried' Yea I'm hung like planet Pluto hard to see with the naked eye But if I crashed into Uranus I would stick it where the sun don't shine Cause I'm kind of like Han Solo always stroking my own wookie I'm the root of all that's evil yea but you can call me cookie The roof the roof the roof is on fire We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn Burn motherfucker burn Yo yo this hard-core ghetto gangster image takes a lot of practice I'm not black like Barry White no I am white like Frank Black is So if man is five and the devil is six than that must make me seven This honkey's gone to heaven But if I go to hell then I hope I burn well I'll spend my days with J.F.K., Marvin Gaye, Martha Raye, and Lawrence Welk And Kurt Cobain, Kojak, Mark Twain and Jimi Hendrix's poltergeist And Webster yea Emmanuel Lewis cause he's the anti-Christ The roof the roof the roof is on fire We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn Burn motherfucker burn Everybody here we go Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Throw your hands in the air Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Wave 'em like you don't care Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everbody say ho Ohh Ohh C'mon party people Ohh Ohh Everybody here we go |
|||||
|
|
3:49 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
If your ass is a Chinese restaurant I'll have the poo-poo platter My friend Jerry Vandergrift kissed me in Home Ec. class Later in the afternoon some jarheads in the locker room kicked my ass I said guys I'm like you I like Monster Trucks too Wanna see how many push-ups I can do? I just wish I was queer so I could get chicks Chicks dig guys that are Queer guys that don't dig Chicks that don't dig guys like me See I'm not queer I'm too ugly But if I were handsome just imagine how great it would be Incognito as gay though but not actually that way though pseudo homo phony Maybe it's a stupid theory or maybe just stupidity But if I was a queerbee in the fashion industry Scoring with a super model would be easy Cause 'super model' means voluptuous but is also is synonymous with 'super dumb' Ya see I'd be a good listener so she'd treat me like a sister and soon I'd become That trusted friend that cares that rubs her back and braids her hair No it wouldn't be a week before I'm in her underwear I wish I was queer so I could get chicks Chicks dig guys that are Queer guys that don't dig Chicks that don't dig guys like me See I'm not queer I'm too ugly Doesn't matter what I'm packin' in my denim it's what's in my genes The only smoked meat the only sausage I would eat is made by Jimmy Dean See I'm not to keen on the smell of Vaseline No I'm not Princess Di and I don't wanna be a queen I wish I was queer so I could get chicks Anyway if I were gay I'd have to change my name to Dirk or Lewis Hang out with my mom's hair stylist his name is Kip he's got a lisp he talks like this And wear my mother's lingerie learn the songs of Broadway And appreciate Depeche Mode and avant garde ballet I wish I was queer so I could get chicks Chicks dig guys that are Queer guys that don't dig Chicks dig guys that are Queer guys that don't dig Chicks dig guys that are Queer guys that don't dig Chicks that don't dig guys like me See I'm not queer I'm too ugly And I don't shave my heiny Don't shave my heiny See I'm not queer I'm too ugly |
|||||
|
|
3:22 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
Are those num-chucks in your pants or are you just happy to see me? Let me take you back to the day that I met my China girl When I landed a 'Pam' like on the San Fran Real World I was sweating like a vegetable inside of a wok I'd never been to Asia Minor but I was gonna Bangkok Like Kristy Yamaguchi I had to break the ice Should I talk about Mothra MASH or shrimp-fried rice? I was sharp as a Chinese star but it's a line I threw Just thirty seconds over Tokyo and this Johnny would Woo I took a shot like Jeanette Lee put on my moves like Bruce Lee I told he every Soon Yi needs a little Woody She said for all the tea in China my vagina's not free But my love will linger longer than the Ming Dynasty I said I needed her to do and her to do my laundry I knew she needed a way to stay legally within the country She was made in Taiwan I said I'm O.K. with that Just promise me you'll never try to eat my cat Chinky chinky bang bang I love you Chinky chinky bang bang I know you love me too In Japan the hand is used as a knife In Japan a man's wife's hand job than can cost him his life But now this Captain Kirk has his own Sulu I'll shampoo her Foo Man Chu with Lo Hung Wang Goo Cause I ride my slant-eyed slope like a brand new Kawasaki Oh me chinky she's so kinky got me hot like Nagasaki Burnin' up like Napalm burstin' like an A-bomb I think I got that jungle fever but I caught it in 'Nam She's like an oriental rug cause I lay her where I please Then I blindfold her with dental floss and get down on her knees I'm a diving Kamikaze eating out Chinese First I'll have the poo-poo platter than some tuna sushi She'll be screa |
|||||
|
|
2:36 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
This beat is my recital
I think it's very vital To rock a rhyme That's right on time It's tricky tricky yo here we go It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky I met this little girlie her hair was kind of curly Went to her house to bust her out I had to leave real early These girls are really sleazy all they just say is please me To rock a rhyme that's right on time I said it's not that easy It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky In New York the people talk and try to make us rhyme They really hawk but we just walk because we have no time And in the city it's a pity 'cause we just can't hide Tinted windows don't mean nothin' they know who's inside It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky Huh When I wake up people take up mostly all of my time I'm not singin' phone keep ringin' so I make up a rhyme I'm not braggin' people naggin' 'cause they think I'm a star Always tearin' what I'm wearin' I think they're goin' too far A girl name Tara follows Jared every gig we play Evil dissed her then dismissed her and now she's jockin' Spanky I ain't lyin' girls be cryin' 'cause I'm on T.V. They even bother my poor father 'cause he's down with me It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky tricky It's tricky to rock a rhyme To rock a rhyme that's right on time It's tricky tricky tricky tricky We are not dumb we don't use drugs but you assume on your own They offer coke and lots of dope but we just leave it alone It's like that y'all y'all 'cause we don't quit You keep on rock shot 'cause this is it |
|||||
|
|
4:06 |
|
||
|
from Bloodhound Gang - One Fierce Beer Coaster (1997)
Bloodhounds shall cruise rendevous Break curfew new trip ensues You never know Bloodhounds just go Pack backpack up for down the road No change of clothes but change for tolls pack of No-Doz Rolos and Skoal Old Milwaukee Jolt black coffee Sugar Daddy Rand McNally A pack of jacks those orange Tic-Tacs Glen Miller tracks roll of Kodak The phantom black stacked Pontiac Hot rod dual quads and in the back Is the beat keeper big ass speaker Jumbo woofer rattle tweeter Dial is turned and there it's stayin' The next day where Stern is playin' You got your Jesus on the dashboard but the devil's under my hood You're taking it down legal I'm pullin' it up to no good God is your co-pilot I let Satan ride shotgun You pay a toll to get to heaven but on the road to hell there's none Get up you're asleep at the wheel I-95 eight lanes wide Midnight drive take a ride Alongside east coast tide Getting high so am I Bloodshot red eyes from the fumes I consume engine zoom then engine boom Then engine glow erupt and blow And overflow like volcano So far to go can't turn back though Cheap tobacco cup of black Joe Fuelin' my body jumpstartin' my soul Set my mind on cruise control You got your Jesus on the dashboard but the devil's under my hood You're taking it down legal I'm pullin' it up to no good God is your co-pilot I let Satan ride shotgun You pay a toll to get to heaven but on the road to hell there's none Get up you're asleep at the wheel 24-7 Truck Stop Plaza Turn off headlights turn on hazards 3 A.M. is when I gazed Eyes glazed I'm dazed and then I fade To black now were back 'On The Road' like Kerouac Down the turnpike high rate of speed Up all night like Gilbert Gottfried You got your Jesus on the dashboard but the devil's under my hood You're taking it down legal I'm pullin' it up to no good God is your co-pilot I let Satan ride shotgun You pay a toll to get to heaven but on the road to hell there's none Get up you're asleep at the wheel |
|||||
|
