| I’m a feminine Eminem, a slim shady lady
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| But nice 'cause I texted Haiti
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| 90 lady cops on the road and I’m arrested for doing 80
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| Like hamlet, all about «words, words, words»
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| Divide a whole into thirds, thirds, thirds
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| I’m a gay sea otter
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| I blow other dudes out of the water
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| I’m the man muffin, divin', muffin
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| Cold and fly like an arctic puffin
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| Puffin whacky tobaccy
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| Hating other rappers like I’m Helga Pataki
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| And I’ve been rocking this mic before electricity
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| Way back in 1000 BCE — that’s before the common era (era era)
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| I can’t be stopped, flow so sick that it should be mopped up
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| Chick’s got a Dixie cup, I gotta dick full of helium, I’ll fuck you up
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| A boy, a girl, a middle aged bitch, botox in the third person
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| I give the perspective a switch and Bo talks in the third person
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| Just relax, if you wanna know me, here’s two facts
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| I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
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| Hungry hungry hypocrite
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| I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
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| Met a girl named Macy had sex with her all day
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| But she was dyslexic, so I ended up doing the YMCA
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| We balling, Asian, Wii bowling, prostate cancer semi-colon
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| Find that hole like I’m Stephen Hawking
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| Atticus Finch, killing, mocking
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| Cry like a child would, you raped my childhood
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| Just stroll in, roll in your pole into Rolie Polie Olie’s colon
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| To relax my mind I take a walk by the clock and I pass the time and
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| Rhyming, mathematical timing, syntax impacts the intact hymen
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| I’m an internet provider, came from the web like a horny spider
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| Fucked a girl in an apple orchard, then came in cider
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| I thought AIDS was a butt virus like conjunction junction conjunctivitis
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| I spit gold bars 'cause I was molested by my uncle Midas
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| Gay dads blow pops, another sucker
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| Oedipus was the first motherfucker
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| I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
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| Hungry hungry hypocrite
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| I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
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| We the people of the USA
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| Jose, we’re not talking to you, esé
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| We got a border in order to keep you out
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| It’s what my NYU essay’s about
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| 'Cause we’re, xenophobic warrior princess
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| Molested by my uncle Sam, is that incest?
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| «I WANT YOU"to smell my finger
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| Does my nephew’s scent still linger?
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| South of queers, north of hell
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| The queer ones suck and the brown ones smell
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| We guard the border and we guard it well
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| But some slip through the cracks of the liberty bell
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| Did I say liberty? |
| I meant taco, paco, hey you better let that rock go
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| 'Cause in real life Goliath wins
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| And then sells all the silk that the widow spins
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| One more time
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| I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
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| Hungry hungry hypocrite
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| I hate catchy choruses and I’m a hypocrite
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| Bitches and hoes, Bo’s hoes, oh, bitches and hoes, bitches, hoes
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| Bitches and hoes don’t exist because the hoes know Bo’s a feminist
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| Bitches and hoes don’t exist because the hoes know Bo’s a feminist
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| So take off your bras and burn 'em or you can let me burn 'em
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| Take off your bras and burn 'em, or you can let Bo Burnham burn 'em
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| Take off your bras and burn 'em, you can let me burn 'em
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| Take off your bras and burn 'em, (burn 'em) you can let Bo Burnham burn 'em |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song WORDS WORDS WORDS , by - Bo Burnham. Song from the album Words Words Words, in the genre