Lyrics Tom Cruise - Madchild

Tom Cruise

I write in short form
Cause I’m a warped dwarf that gargles chloroform
Broke a foreign store — in chops, just cause I had a warrent for 'em
I’m fuckin' touring more
My fans, they are my family
They’re keeping me away from doing drugs and going gambling
If I am home too long I feel like strangling
So when my thoughts start scrambling
The anger in me gets me tangled annually
I write down goals I must achieve and check 'em manually
Rambling in the studio 'til I’m sure there’s no man handling me
Play you like a mandolin
Eat you like a damn panini
Flipping like a Dolphin
Dan Marino with a Lamborghini
Couple groupie bimbos, boobies popping out their damn bikinis
I wrangle wrestlers, hassle 'em and wrestle 'em
Whip a lasso around these assholes, make a fuckin' mess of 'em
I’m masculine, their messages are full of fluff and estrogen
I’m guessing all of this testosterone
Is what makes me an awesome gnome
Floss 'em 'til my cock’s a fuckin' fossil bone
MadChild is immaculate
Wack with a crack faculty
Rolling like tobacco leaves
After they’ve dried naturally
Accolades from laying tracks like a rap factory
Get sacked, cause I’m back tackling raps like I’m an athlete
Quit your cackling, shit is just spectacular
Vernacular is sharper than the fangs that hang from Dracula
Kill a silhouette cause I’m iller there ain’t no filling lace
Bad boy, I’ll beat you with four pop cans in a pillow case
I remember days of saying, «Hey, check out my roster holmes»
Yo, Little Monster’s home from doing concerts, writing constant poems
Busting it up on Posturepedic mattresses with actresses
The fact is that I’m back more accurate than maps and atlases
But I’m not sure if I lost game or my attractiveness
But it seems that my activities have dropped on sexual activeness
What, am I blacklisted from porn stars and actresses?
May be the most eligible bachelor that just spat vicious
Once we get it cracking, fuck you 'til I break your back bitches
You’re no different than the last bitch is
Half riches, half fame
Half of you don’t even know my real name, that’s real lame
Giving up your pussy just to feel fame
Had to trade my heart in for an artery with a steel frame
And part of me thinks maybe you’re retarded
What’s the deal babe?
What…
Just cause I’m famous I don’t feel pain?
You don’t think you’re talking to somebody that’s got a real brain?
I despise all of your lies, I just ain’t got time to call you out
Polishing my wallet means that’s all it about
I knew I couldn’t love her, it’s another freaking falling out
Killin' it 'till I fulfill my prophecy of ballin' out
I’m eating porridge in a storage locker, in a pair of orange joggers
Life is boring for a blogger, fuck a foreign torn swapper
Kids on computers, little cocky farts and smart mouths
Crazy talking crappy ass apartments out in Dartmouth
Explosive like I’m Shady with eighty grenade launchers
And I’m the Little Monster, the Palladium playing concerts
So yeah my brain’s bonkers
Praying my name conquers
Creeping from Waikiki to Albuquerque to Yonkers
Still Street Fighting saying, «Hyuka» like I’m Blanka
Maneuver like a juvenile’s abuse, without a sponsor
You ain’t tough, you’re a Tonka Truck
I’m a combination of a fire breathing dragon that’s wrestling with a monster
truck
It’s really nonsense, silly like Willy Wonka’s
Chocolate Factory, I’ll get back to you when I’m conscious
I’m an upper class puppet master, sipping a cup of Shasta
Tougher cause I’ve outlasted
And suffered through some rough disasters
This time I ain’t calling you a bitch, you’re a fuckin' bastard
So suck your mother’s asshole, you stupid fuckin' asshole
Back sharper than ever
I’m razor sharp
With a broken heart
And here’s a token fart