Lyrics Goth Girls - MC Frontalot

Goth Girls

Goth girls, goth girls: they’re the girls that go
To see the nerdcore rapper with the geeked out flow
At the show, you can see the black lace on parade
I met a hundred dozen of 'em…
Ummmm hello!
I was wondering, how goth is my frock?
I got this thing for horror movies and mope rock
But I can’t shock my hair up (I ran out of stock)
And just like that, Frontalot ran out of talk
It was tragic, unheard of, never seen, me:
Out of rhymes when they usually come indefatigably
But me here talk good?
No, bad talk do!
Like my tongue got encrypted right before I lost root
Like my small talk got box-roxed on a prior boot
It’s moot, she only dates guys in chokes and Docs
Not brutes lacking eye-liner like I lack
But look, I’ll put a little on plus lip shellac
Just to stand next to that and dream about love
Of necessity, that has always had to be enough
Cause I can’t talk to goth girls, I just stare and stammer
«My name is MC frimmer frammer.»
Damn her if she giggle, damn her double if she laugh
Goth girls like it when you double-damn it twice fast
Goth girls, goth girls: they’re the girls that go
To see the nerdcore rapper with the geeked out flow
At the show, you can see the black lace on parade
I met a hundred dozen of 'em but I ain’t got laid
Got shunned by her at the Rocky Horror premiere
She steered clear of the nerd crowd but I heard loud in my ear
The disdain that she held for my type
Always geeking on the computron — I get hype
On the stage, she might notice me then and observe
That I’m «ironically hip in some flip universe»
And her purse in patent leather held in fishnet glove
Could then contain MP3 player with the Front filled up
Her name is Nyteshaed, yo don’t call her cherry tomato
She look like Paisley Tinkle but poisonous like Topato
She says her hair got attacked cause it’s black and it’s blue
She got the Johnny the Homicidal Maniac tattoo
Legs all deep in the boots, boots all up on the heels
Yes, the kind to make a certain type of fetishist squeal
The ordeal I endure: this close to her splendor
Besieged by my shyness;
try this: I surrender!
And render my intentions in the usual way
(Home alone, SuicideGirls up on the cathode ray.)
Goth girls, goth girls: they’re the girls that go
To see the nerdcore rapper with the geeked out flow
At the show, you can see the black lace on parade
I met a hundred dozen of 'em but I ain’t got laid
IRL, my woman tells me that I shouldn’t be covetin'
I tell her «Yo, you better get in a coven then.»
It’s like «Eek!», I get to sleep on the couch for a week
While watching old Elvira videos on TV
Yeah hee hee hee;
laugh it up.
You don’t live like I do:
At the mercy of any sister with wrist scars and black eye goo
I’ve tried to get into cheerleaders and failed
Banana Repugnant and tanned, so bland and so stale
Avail myself of the local café, light a clove up
Thumb through Camus (in French, which I can’t read, but so what?)
I think that goth could flower in nerdcore’s embrace
I mean I converted Edward Gorey’s lettering into a typeface
Befriended vampires on LJ and MySpace
Even put that spooky echo filter on the bass
But I can’t talk to goth girls, I just stare and stammer
«My name is MC frimmer frammer.»
Damn her if she giggle, damn her double if she laugh
Goth girls like it when you double-damn it twice fast
Goth girls, goth girls: they’re the girls that go
To see the nerdcore rapper with the geeked out flow
At the show, you can see the black lace on parade
I met a hundred dozen of 'em but I ain’t got laid
Goth girls, goth girls: they’re the girls that got
Their souls stuck somewhere between the kettle and pot
Frontalot been enamored of 'em since I was young
Met a hundred dozen of 'em, never ever humped one