| It’s horrible
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| One lonely evening alone, home
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| End up with carpal tunnel syndrome
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| And here I am, known for giving heavy back aches
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| Grown and living off of Little Debbie snack cakes
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| Supposed to be checking emails
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| All I got is messages from ass naked females
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| I don’t know a Jenny
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| She said it’s free and I won’t owe her a penny
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| And that’s the last time I saw her
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| But thousands of more horrors on online Gomorrah
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| And Sodom, they got 'em with they curls out
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| And they got a better sales pitch than the Girl Scouts
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| I wonder what I owe her
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| For a whole box of caramel coconut samoa
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| («Nite nite!»), Uh, ok honey, sweet dreams
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| Now it’s time to get serious like Peek Freans
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| A metal handful, wipe it on the quilt
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| Wife wake up and I’m kill’t over spilt milk
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| Locked in, looking at your picture
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| Fully clothed winter and I’m right there with ya
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| Thinking about the last time I split your wishbone
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| A man could only wish you do the same 'til he get home
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| Fat chance, at least he get snacks
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| That’d have to do 'til a brother get back
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| Until then smack One-Eyed Jack
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| And hope one of his peoples can hook him with a tri-pack
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| That’s three different flavors
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| Chocolate, vanilla and strawberry wafers
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| Acting all hard, 'bout to get beat up
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| I’ll show him what time it is once I get this sheet up
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| Soon as he fell off the beat down
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| All I hear is, «13th cell, put the sheet down»
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| Damn C.O., what the hell do she know?
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| Besides the fact she wanna get dug out on the d-low
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| A workaholic with a fountain in the ink pen
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| Out in the mountains and I stopped drinking again
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| In the wee hours, he’s gotten farther
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| Needing three showers, being hot and bothered
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| The wiz with her legs bent, pregnant
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| God bless the day she wondered where her egg went
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| I need a L, it’s hard to drink without it
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| And could use some kookies but trying not to think about it
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| Watching «BET» on jazz for knowledge on file
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| Every other commercial, college hoes gone wild
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| Soft batch, I prefer the other bunch
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| Like we got for lunch, chocolate fudge butter crunch
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| He don’t mess with the Ritz Bits
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| Wheat Thins, Saltines or Triscuits
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| Matzos or Cheez-Its
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| Catch sugar fits every time that he sees
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| Chips Ahoy, double chocolate chunk
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| Something with the bubble and the junk in the trunk
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| Even the Oreos, no matter what weather
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| Always kept 'em dipped in milk and stuck together
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| In the game he’s shameless
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| Even uses a code name: Famous Amos
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| It’s cheaper than a short stay at the Days Inn
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| And good like 25 cent oatmeal raisin
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| Give a hand to who invented the camera
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| Skip past the graham, animal and Grandma’s
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| Shh, make sure she don’t wake from her dream chill
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| Or get caught with a handful of cream fill
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| «Oh, honey! |
| What are you doing? |
| That’s so nasty!»
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| It might seem ill
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| «Ew! |
| Go wash your hands!» |
| (No)
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| Kookies
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| «Get out of here!»
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| «DOOM is master of the world.»
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| «I'd sure hate to see that ugly mug of yours in my history book.»
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| «You've disturbed me for the last time.»
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| (Voice 1): Hey, y’know something gang, that DOOM ain’t really all bad
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| (Voice 2): What do you mean, Ben?
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| (Voice 1): Well I gotta admit that I’ve been having a real good time.
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| Y’know, I mean, between you and me I kinda like being black
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| (Voice 3): Well, maybe if we’re lucky he’ll attack us once more and send you
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| back, Benjamin
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| (Voice 1): Ah-haha very funny, very very funny
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| (Voice 2): He must be mad
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| (Voice 4): Well, if anyone can do it. |
| Nevertheless let’s get out of here,
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| while we can
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| (Misc. Voice): Food, we need food |