| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| You ever caught a body you know how I feel
|
| Fucked up yet I’m shining though
|
| Time to tell 'em adios
|
| Jumping out geronimo
|
| Nobody see no sign of 'em
|
| Smoking sherman. |
| Mass murder in the middle of your sermon
|
| Swerving, flirting with turban wearing virgins
|
| (Okay) Curtains. |
| (Uhh) You can’t see me. |
| You should call missing persons
|
| I’m drunk at the Perkins
|
| Liquid encouragement got me focused
|
| I beat your whole team without a relay in the track meet
|
| (Son of a gun) Pay attention now
|
| You McDonald’s All American and I ain’t talking bout an athlete
|
| (Son of a gun)
|
| I got a boy counting foreign money for me
|
| Plus a couple shorties to peal oranges when I’m horny
|
| Massages in the morning. |
| First class is now boarding
|
| I’m breaking out of orbit. |
| Oooh lordy. |
| Oooh lordy!
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| You ever caught a body you know how I feel
|
| Fucked up yet I’m shining though
|
| Time to tell 'em adios
|
| Jumping out geronimo
|
| Nobody see no sign of 'em
|
| What had happened was I was buzzed in the black Maxima
|
| The passenger. |
| Snapping neck looking back at us
|
| More asses to tap a capita. |
| That’s a fact that I can fax to ya
|
| Backing up the truck. |
| Damn, Pamela!
|
| So check it, I want to get freaky and fuck you this weekend
|
| I’d love to, so call me. |
| I trust you
|
| Allow me to come through and cook you some fondue
|
| Your dresses could undo. |
| I swear, God, I love you
|
| And my orgies, they keep on getting better
|
| Like 9/11, we all came together
|
| Two birds of a feather all flock together
|
| Like I said before I’m getting bigger, getting better!
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| You ever caught a body you know how I feel
|
| Fucked up yet I’m shining though
|
| Time to tell 'em adios
|
| Jumping out geronimo
|
| Nobody see no sign of 'em
|
| Gimme a reason to ball. |
| Just like I’m Steven Segal
|
| This evening take a beating 'front of your moms. |
| You’re bleeding
|
| Please believe I’m speeding keys in the car. |
| I’m leaving
|
| Cleanly eating Diane’s Keaton tomorrow. |
| Believe me
|
| More haters more haters more haters more haters. |
| Hey!
|
| More haters more haters more haters more haters. |
| Hey!
|
| More haters more haters more haters more haters. |
| Hey!
|
| More paper more paper more paper |