| Pump and dump down the old country road
|
| Drove up from Miami with an oversized load
|
| When it’s my reputation on the line, I implode
|
| I implode, I repeat, I implode
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| Hey!
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| 'Cause you can’t emote
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| What you ain’t made rote
|
| There’s no antidote
|
| Plead you’ll find the note
|
| And it goes to the one
|
| Who praises the Probst
|
| And if you hesitate, lover
|
| You’re toast, you’re toast, you’re toast
|
| Suckers standin' around for my ground-and-pound
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| It’s more comprehensive than a beatdown
|
| And by the code of the road, now you’re dutybound
|
| We’ll be sure to surround you with clowns
|
| Hey!
|
| Firing only duds
|
| Suckers bleedin' blood
|
| The unkindest bud
|
| Chewin' nasty cud
|
| And the fire only comes for the folks on the coast
|
| And if you’re one of them, lover
|
| You’re toast, you’re toast, you’re toast
|
| At the frontier of my government wage
|
| I can’t get a loan on account of my age
|
| When I feel threatened I can dish out the rage
|
| I’d best bid you adieu and disengage
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| Disengage
|
| 'Cause you can’t emote
|
| What you ain’t made wrote
|
| There’s no antidote
|
| Plead you’ll find the note
|
| And it goes to the one
|
| Who praises the Probst
|
| And if you hesitate, lover
|
| You’re toast, you’re toast
|
| Firing only dust
|
| Suckers bleedin' blood
|
| The unkindest bud
|
| Chewin' nasty cud
|
| And the fire only comes for the folks on the coast
|
| And if you’re one of them, lover
|
| You’re toast, you’re toast, you’re toast
|
| You’re toast, you’re toast, you’re toast |