| Jim Bean, my best friend, picks me up in his truck
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| In the backseat JD, my brother in law
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| My German penpal Helmut Jägermeister
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| Sends me small bottles of liquor in the mail
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| I know I chosen the right path
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| So I did the math
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| The call, will be answered
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| I will grow up to be a romancer
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| Hockey is for sissys, football for nerds
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| Bowling for grandma and her domesticated birds
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| Jeff, bobby, matt, those football assholes
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| I slam the door in their faces, they will only see laces
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| Liquor saved me from the sports
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| I rather sit by the pool in my sperm stained shorts
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| And get fucked up…
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| I want to be addicted, subjected by the booze
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| I’d like to wake up in the morning and feel my oze
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| My bitch tells me she wished I would never been born
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| She sits at home and mourn.
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| Baseball for machos
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| La crosse for the queer
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| Tap Dance for grandpa
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| And his conservative peers
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| I may have vomit on my clothes
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| But I still know how to break some bones
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| Bottoms up, buckle up!!! |