Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Space Ho's, artist - Dangerdoom.
Date of issue: 16.10.2005
Song language: English
Space Ho's |
How they gave his own show to Tad Ghostal? |
Any given second he could go mad postal |
Stay wavin' that powerband space cannon |
And had the nerve to jump in the face of Race Bannon |
Punked out |
Luckily he deaded it |
Guess who’s the schmuck who’s credited with editing it |
Your man Moltar, the copout |
Ain’t have no other career choice, he dropped out |
Since when the Wayouts included Zorak |
Way back he used to rub his thorax in Borax (evil Zorak laugh) |
I’m not the one that sold him to it |
If he won’t admit it, I’m not gonna hold him to it |
It’s all love and no hate though |
For all that, the Villain need to get his own Late Show |
Do a monolouge and jest with the guests |
Madlib switch the beat and walk him to the desk |
With Danger holding down the control room |
Late again returning from commercial, I told you, Doom |
Early, he’s on BPT |
Catch him on public-access free TV |
And we’re back live on the air with Brak |
So, Brak, how your man got a show that’s so wack? |
(Brak: What?) |
Have you ever thought to work with Err or Ignignokt and them? |
(Err: Ha ha!) |
Do you got enough oxygen from this toxic phlegm? |
Another sec, his neck woulda got flames |
Mouse switch the screen to some hot dames |
Tonight’s audience received big screen video games |
And fifteen seconds of fame, pitiful lames |
It’s just a shame, zoning |
Competing for the same primetime slot as Conan |
No, dummy, Ichigawa |
Announcement: free lunch to any stunt who lets me plow her in the shower for a |
hour |
The kids supposed to be sleep |
Or else the joint’ll sound like Road Runner, beep beep |
Later this week, Big Ben Klingon |
After him there’s no one else we could afford to bring on |
Keep it ghetto |
And let em know BYOB from the get-go |
I’d like to propose a toast |
To the grossest host |
Space Ho’s coast to coast |
That destructo ray’s a played out gag |
And the cape and the pantsuit, looking like a straight out… |
Dag, don’t mean to sound crunchy |
Hit a honey from the back and crumpled up her scrunchy |
A light snack hungry munchie |
Felt a funny hunch, then she told me «Donkey-punch me!» |
Tomorrow is Father Guido Sarducci, Father MC and Charo, coochie coochie |
With her new bestseller, «Who you call a hoochie?» |
A proud sponsor of the Snoochie Boochie Noochies |
Look Leela eyeball to eyeballs |
And find out how to get inside them sugar pie walls |
Our next guest, a real cutie specimen |
And she’s starting to get a little booty, Miss Judy Jetson |
So, Judy, boxers, briefs, or fig leaf? |
As you know I wear my boxers on my big… |
Cue the rapper, tell him bring what little he got |
Up against the Villy, is really not diddly squat |
Until they head hurts |
When it come to wreck |
Cruisers like them dudes in red shirts off Star Trek |
He Kirk, he Spock, he McCoy |
Been b-boy since you jerks first squeezed toys |
Born to be the host with the most |
When it’s on it’s on |
Space Ho’s, coast to coast |
Do you think I’m just gonna hand over my show to you, Doom? |
Have you lost your |
f*cking mind? |
Listen, I’m not gonna hand my show over to you. |
You know why? |
Because it’s my show. |
Mine. |
Not yours. |
Space Ghost. |
It ain’t Doom Coast to |
Coast. |
Yeah, yeah sure, here are the keys to the show, why don’t you drive for |
a while? |
Yeah, America’s craving some Doom, here you go… |