| My balls they itch, and I’m too fat to scratch
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| Aw man, ain’t life a bitch, with a fat moustache
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| Tickles my scrotum, but it won’t make me cum
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| No, it won’t make me spray, but it won’t go away
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| I can’t change my underwear, dunno what I’d find down there
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| Maybe dickcheese, maybe poo, and if it’s cheese, it’s blue
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| I would like to feel my dong, but my arms are not that long
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| And my foreskin is too snug for that wiener-finger hug
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| You should be on fat
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| You should be on fat
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| They keep telling me
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| You should be on fat
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| My balls they itch, and I’m too fat to scratch
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| Could be the crabs that hatch down in my pubic thatch
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| No, I know it’s no creep, cause it would have to sleep
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| And it’s jock around the clock and it’s spreading to my…
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| I don’t wanna see the doc cause it’s too embarrassing
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| I would have to spill the beans and tell him everything
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| On a search for navel lint under all that fat
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| I’d lift, I’d clench, I’d squint, and pulled out a wooly hat
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| I should be on fat |