| 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, diving, 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
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| That’s before the common era, era, era, era, (era era)
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| Oh 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 got a 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 want to 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 doin' 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, rollin' 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 inside her
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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 mother fucker
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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, essé
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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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| Yeah, break it down now, what
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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, or you can let me burn em
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| Take off your bras and burn em, burn-em, or you can let Bo Burnham burn em |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song WORDS, WORDS, WORDS (studio) , by - Bo Burnham. Song from the album Words Words Words, in the genre