| And the peaches and the mangos
|
| That you could sell for me…
|
| What do you think my brain is made for
|
| Is it just a container for the mind
|
| This great grey matter
|
| Sensei replied, what is your woman
|
| Is she just a container for the child
|
| That soft pink matter
|
| Cotton candy Majin Buu
|
| Close my eyes and fall into you
|
| My God she’s giving me pleasure
|
| What if the sky and the stars are for show
|
| And the aliens are watching live
|
| From the purple matter
|
| Sensei went quiet then violent
|
| And we sparred until we both grew tired
|
| Nothing mattered
|
| Cotton candy Majin Buu
|
| Dim the lights and fall into you, you, you
|
| My God, giving me pleasure
|
| Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure
|
| Pleasure over matter
|
| Since you been gone
|
| I been having withdrawals
|
| You were such a habit to call
|
| I ain’t myself at all had to tell myself naw
|
| She’s better with some fella with a regular job
|
| I didn’t wanna get her involved
|
| By dinner Mr. Benjamin was sittin' in awe
|
| Hopped into my car drove far
|
| Far’s too close and I remember
|
| My memories no sharp
|
| Butter knife what a life anyway
|
| I’m building y’all a clock stop
|
| What am I, Hemingway?
|
| She had the kind of body
|
| That would probably intimidate
|
| Any of 'em that were un-southern
|
| Not me cousin
|
| If models are made for modeling
|
| Thick girls are made for cuddlin'
|
| Switch worlds and we can huddle then
|
| Who needs another friend
|
| I need to hold your hand
|
| You’d need no other man
|
| We’d flee to other lands
|
| Grey matter
|
| Blue used to be my favorite color
|
| Now I ain’t got no choice
|
| Blue matter
|
| You’re good at being bad
|
| You’re bad at being good
|
| For heaven’s sakes go to hell
|
| Knock knock on wood
|
| You’re good at being bad
|
| You’re bad at being good
|
| For heaven’s sakes go to hell
|
| Knock on wood
|
| For heaven’s sakes go to hell
|
| Knock knock knock knock on wood
|
| Well frankly when that ocean so mahfuckin' good
|
| Make her swab the mahfuckin' wood
|
| Make her walk the mahfuckin' plank
|
| Make her rob a mahfuckin' bank
|
| With no mask on and a rusty revolver |