| Well he’s the king of fashion in his neighborhood
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| With his ripped blue jeans and a flannelette shirt
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| A well kept mullet and a packet of smokes
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| His mates will all tell ya he’s a real top bloke
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| His real name is Barry, but his mates call him Bazza
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| And his girlfriend’s name is Sharon, but ya just call her Shazza
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| Real top sheila, real top sort
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| She’ll even change your stubby while you’re watching sport
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| But don’t victimise him for his way of life
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| He’s sick and tired of hearing people say…
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| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan
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| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan
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| He drives a VK Commodore with alloy wheels
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| With a home made spoiler made of crappy steel
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| Pair of fluffy dice and all the other toys
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| But his 'No Fear' sticker is his pride and joy
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| Saturday night the boys hit town
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| Yeah they’re cruising the streets with their windows down
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| Put on some Barnsey and they’re on their way
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| You’ll hear the car com’n from a mile away
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| But don’t victimise him for his way of life
|
| He’s sick and tired of hearing people say…
|
| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan
|
| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan
|
| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan
|
| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan
|
| Nobody likes, nobody likes, nobody likes a bogan |